Lady Alina Fitzwilliam
by MangoGirl19
Summary: A slight P&P what if: If Col. Fitzwilliam had a younger sister. Undaunted by society's restrictions, fearless, vivacious Alina Fitzwilliam manages to charm everyone she meets. Starting from a joyous, fun-filled childhood and to an exciting and turbulent adulthood, this is P&P from an OC's perspective. Starts Pre-canon, covers major events and goes into the book.
1. An Introduction to the Lady

**Chapter One**

A/N: Pride and Prejudice has been my favorite Jane Austen novel for a long time. One fine day, Alina just came into my head, fearless, smart, vivacious and refused to leave. I could see her clearly, debating with Darcy, charming her father, writing letters to Richard, making friends with Elizabeth. It's like a movie playing in my head and I wanted to share her story with everyone, so here we are.

Summary: She was born on a rainy, stormy july night in the twilight of the 18th century. Perhaps, that made her the spitfire that she is. Undaunted by society's restrictions, fearless, vivacious Alina Fitzwilliam manages to charm everyone she meets. Starting from a joyous, fun-filled childhood and to an exciting and turbulent adulthood, this is Alina's story. Mainly features the Fitzwilliam and Darcy family.

It starts with Alina as a 12/13 old, so she is going to sound a bit childish and cocky but it will get better.

 **Disclaimer: Any resemblance to actual persons, whether living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a fictious story about a fictious family set in a real location. These characters in no way reflect any member of the Fitzwilliam family.**

* * *

 _Milton Hall_

 _12th September 1804_

 _My Dear Friend Michelle_

 _My governess Miss Price says that in order to become a lady, I must learn to write proper letters and for that I must practice most assiduously by writing mock letters. I thought that if I was to go to the trouble of writing a letter, using the best of parchment and ink, then why may I not address it to my dearest friend? So, I write this practice letter to you._

 _I hope my letter finds you in the best of health and spirits. Oh Michelle! I miss you so. Why did you have to go to your grandmother's cottage and that too so far from Milton just because my dear Uncle Thomas is no more? You could have continued living at Canterbury with your Uncle. There is certainly enough space to accommodate your mother and you. I will take it up with your Uncle when he visits us for dinner. We must have you at Canterbury. Otherwise, how are we to trouble my dear cousin Darcy? I cannot carry out any mischief without you. You were always the best at getting out of tight spots the few times the cook caught us stealing cakes meant for tea!_

 _How fare thee, my friend? You must not be surprised at my use of medieval phrases, Mich, for I have been reading the Bard's works (the ones Miss Price deems suitable for me to read) most devotedly._

 _I am quite lonely now that Richard has gone off to London to visit his friends. I thought now that his studies have ended, we would have amusement and gaiety at Milton Hall once again when he resided with us but he stayed here but a week and then left for London to meet his friends. I do not like these friends of Richard's who take him away from his family. Mother and Father disapprove of them too, I heard them arguing with Richard last evening when I was looking for my most precious treasure, my beautiful doll Rosie. Miss Price says that ladies do not eavesdrop on private conversations and our Indian maid says that the ones who do so become lizards in their next life but I assure you I didn't eavesdrop. They were so loud that I could hear them while I was searching the corridor outside father's study for my beloved Rosie. Nonetheless, I have asked for forgiveness from God, as mother says we must if we do something wrong and I hope he will forgive me._

 _Oh! I must tell you what I received for my birthday! A book of fairytales! Oh, Michelle, I love them so. Every night before I go to sleep, I read stories of Princesses rescued from witches by dashing princes and girls with hair as long as a tower! I shall endeavour to send a copy to you for your birthday too. Then we can discuss the stories in our letters for you must write back to me. I will not take a negative answer to my command. Dear, I sound like Aunt Catherine. Richard will tease me mercilessly if he finds out I have been emulating Dear Aunt Catherine. I miss him very much but Mother says he will be here for Christmas along with Uncle George, Cousin Darcy and Cousin Georgiana. It will be nice to have a girl for company but that does not mean I will ever stop moaning about your deeply felt absence. My Best Regards to your grandmother and mother and love to sustain you till we see each other again._

 _Your Devoted Friend,_

 _Alina_

* * *

Milton Hall

15th September 1804

Lord Milton's Study

'Young Lady,' said the Earl sternly.

'Yes Papa', she replied meekly, hoping the informal appellation would inspire mercy.

'You are never to call out guests at our dinner table again,' he reprimanded. 'It's no business of yours if the new Lord Canterbury chooses to remove his sister-in-law from his residence.'

'Yes, Papa', she agreed reluctantly and chose to withhold her arguement, her father was angry enough already.

'You are banished to your room for two days. If I hear that you have disobeyed, the consequences will be severe. I will send you to your Aunt Catherine!,' he finished with a flourish

'I will be most compliant Papa!', she begged meekly, who after all wanted to live with Aunt Catherine and listen to her sermons about how insufficient one was compared to her eminence and hundred ways to improve oneself. She would not suffer that willingly. Never.

'Good, now be off with you. Leave me in peace,' he sighed.

'Good Night Papa', she said quietly before leaving the room.

'Good Night child,' he replied as she went out and quietly closed the door.

 _5 Minutes Later_

After checking the corridor for signs of his daughter and finding none, Lord Milton collapsed into his chair and laughed heartily till tears ran down his cheeks. His lovely, cheeky, impertinent daughter who called out Lords at the dinner table.

 _Alcove near the Earl's Study_

Alina had already celebrated her lenient punishment with a portion of the scotch reel. After hearing her father's laughter, she went off happily to sleep. He was not so angry after all.

* * *

 _Milton Hall_

 _16th September 1804_

 _Richard Fitzwilliam,_

 _If you are wondering about the absence of an endearment, it is because you do not deserve it Mister. I had such high hopes for your return to Milton Hall from the University. I thought you would tell me stories of your time at the University, play games with me, take me for picnics in the woods, because you know Mother doesn't allow me to go alone. However, you care nothing for your poor little sister who loves you with all her heart. She is to be abandoned for the pleasures of London. I doubt your friends in London love you as much as I._

 _I have a good mind to write you a sad, miserable letter for I have been banished to my rooms for two days by Father. Apparently, 'I shall meet you with pistols and swords at dawn, Lord Canterbury. You may choose the weapon', is not appropriate dinner time conversation. I have learnt my lesson, next time, if I wish to call out a guest, I shall do so in the drawing room instead of at the dinner table._

 _I do not like Lord Canterbury, he is a despicable, mean, ugly old man who threw out his own sister-in-law. Michelle never told me this. She made it seem that they left of their own volition. My next letter from my gilded cage shall be to her. Come back soon brother, your absence is deeply felt. My regards to Uncle George and our Darcy Cousins. Do ask Cousin Darcy about his tailcoat. He will blush a most ferocious shade of crimson, I wager._

 _Your loving sister,_

 _Allie_

End of Chapter One

* * *

 **A/N: This story means a lot to me, so please read and review, you will make my day.**

Trivia: In Regency Era, a girl's conventional schooling lasted approximately till she was 12/13. After this, she was imparted skills, referred to as accomplishments, like drawing, modern languages and music, some of which were merely learnt to be an attractive product in the marriage mart and were oft neglected after marriage. Also, Alina was not present at the dinner with Lord Canterbury as she's not yet out, she was merely dressed finely and taken to meet the guests for a couple of minutes so the parents could show off while they expected her to curtsy and smile prettily, she ended up calling him out after learning that he threw her beloved friend out. (Thanks to Invisible Guest for pointing out that dinner part)


	2. My brother becomes a redcoat

**Chapter Two**

 ** _A/N: Hope you like it. Do check out my other P &P Story, Alternative Therapy for his monster-in-law's nerves in which Darcy puts Mrs. Bennet in her place._**

 ** _I have changed Matlock Estate to Milton Hall, as it is the real seat of the Fitzwilliam family. The largest private home in England, it is said to have inspired Max de Winter's estate Manderley in Daphne Du Maurier's Rebecca. Do read it if you haven't, it's awesome._**

 ** _Without further ado, the chapter._**

 ** _1/4/16-Added a bit of prose to this chapter._**

* * *

Three Wise Men

London

20th September 1804

Fitzwilliam Darcy sat silently in his chosen and rather uncomfortably hard wooden chair in a seedy tavern situated in the other side of London, observing the sombre expression on his cousin's face being replaced by an honest, wide grin as he skimmed through a missive from his sister, Alina.

Whatever she had written must have been supremely amusing as Richard was chuckling still as he folded the letter carefully and tucked it into his coat pocket. The serene, secret smile stuck on his face, he closed his eyes and leant back in his more comfortable cushioned chair, balancing rather precariously on the two hind legs, his face upturned to the heavens as if in gratitude.

'I am honored, Richard,' bit out Darcy, exasperated by his cousin's sudden vow of silence. He had been summoned to this hell hole by an untidily scrawled note upon receiving which he had abandoned all the duties assigned to him by his father and hailed a bloody hackney cab to reach the designated meeting place as soon as possible only to met with unrelenting silence as Richard sat slumped in his chair, staring moodily into the fire and refused to utter a single word. 'Truly honored by the faith you've shown in me by revealing your deepest secrets in my lowly presence. You have trusted me more than any man could be expected to trust a blood relation who has always fulfilled his filial obligations towards you and considers you his dearest friend. I am overwhelmed by your kindness and thus, beg passionately for your handkerchief so I can stem the flow of me happy tears-'

This indignant speech was interrupted by a loud snort from behind them and they both looked back to see Lord Wentworth, their friend and Cambridge fellow, smirking devilishly as he inclined his head in their general direction in greeting.

'Really, Richard,' exclaimed Lord Wentworth as he pulled out a chair and took a seat on their table. 'What could possibly induce you to ask this cranky old man for help?'

'Why must you both compare me to cranky old men and foul tempered old maids whenever we meet?', complained Darcy, childishly. 'I do not believe that I have done anything to merit the infernal titles.'

'Of course, Darcy', agreed Richard, speaking for the first time. 'Your long lectures only have the misfortune of resembling the enlightening sermons of a certain Lady at Rosings' park so you certainly do not deserve either title. Your correct title is Lady Catherine De Bourgh the second.'

Lord Wentworth could not hold in his amusement at this witty comparison and burst out laughing while Darcy's face was deformed by a particularly nasty scowl which might have caused a lesser man to quake in his boots but as Richard had been on its receiving end for the better part of his childhood, it had no effect on him.

'Well gentlemen,'said Lord Wentworth, his face rather becomingly flushed from the hearty bout of laughter, 'Now that we have accomplished the prerequisite of being amused at Darcy's expense, may we proceed to the matter at hand, for which my meeting with a rather fetching bird was rudely interrupted?'

'One of these days you will end up with the French disease and die a painful death, Wentworth,' said Darcy prudishly. He was rather proud of his accomplishment of not succumbing to the allure of the various bits of muslin that lined London's unsavoury streets.

'You might blame your cousin for this, Darcy,' shot back Niklaus, grinning. 'He was the one who bribed one of the light skirts outside to accost me and clutch the lapels of my fine coat rather desperately. I had to pay her in order to get her to release me.'

Richard snorted rather drunkenly and burst out rather suddenly, 'I received my letter of acceptance to the army today. I am now-officially-a Lieutenant Colonel in his Majesty's army.

The lighthearted chuckles of earlier were now replaced by a stunned silence. Neither Darcy nor Lord Wentworth looked particularly delighted at this piece of news.

'And thus, the young 'un went off to war,' quoted Niklaus, rubbing his face rather wearily. Richard's application for a Commission in His Majesty's Army a year ago had been the subject of various arguements between them from the time Richard had turned eligible to apply for it. They had managed to delay it till the last possible year but Richard had refused to agree and sent his application the day he attained majority.

'You will not be persuaded otherwise, Richard?,' asked Darcy, his demeanour serious.

'No,' Richard's short reply betrayed no hint of doubt or a possibility of wavering from his decision.

'Though we may worry about your dashing self like a pair of mother hens', admitted Lord Wentworth, his expression pained, 'We do agree that the army is best option for a man in your position. It is the most respected, the most prestigious of all the professions you could've chosen and you will maintain your position as a gentleman.'

Darcy nodded his agreement. 'You are a brave man, Richard. Doing this without Uncle Damien's consent couldn't have been easy but you have managed to accomplish it. I congratulate you and commend your courage.'

Niklaus raised his glass in support and the three of them toasted Richard's success and celebrated his inclusion into the merry band of redcoats.

* * *

Three hours later

Richard was curled up on the dirty carriage seat of the hired carriage, hiccoughing drunkenly at frequent intervals as Niklaus observed him with a sort of detached fascination from his seat across him. Darcy had wished to travel in solitude and thus, it was only the pair of them in the carriage.

'You're drunk as a wheelbarrow, old fellow', said Niklaus, the amusement evident in his tone, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth. 'Am I to drag an ape drunk like yourself across my father's threshold? He will think you an uncouth, commonplace sailor-'

'Not a-a sailor', replied Richard, jumping up in his seat each time he hiccoughed. 'I am a brave English warrior who will rip my enemies apart with one blow from my sword, splattering their insides on the ground.'

Niklaus grimaced at the gory picture. 'You disgust me. War does not mean shredding your opponents to bits-'

'For you then, my dear friend,' declared Richard, falling to the floor in his drunken attempt to bow to Niklaus. 'I will spare them and only run them through my sword once.'

'Which will be a real comfort to them I'm sure,' muttered Niklaus, helping Richard back into his seat. Just as he made to move back, Richard grasped his hands and kept him there, kneeling on the filthy floor of the carriage.

'Will I be able to sleep, Nik?', he asked, his eyes wide like a scared child looking for reassurance after a terrifying nightmare. 'Will I be able to live in peace knowing I have taken a life?'

'I...I do not know, Richard,' he replied, out of his depth. 'I have never killed a man so I cannot tell you about its aftermath.'

Richard released his hands rather abruptly and leant back against the grimy wall, closing his eyes as if to guard himself against the thought of the repercussions of his choice of a profession.

Niklaus opened his mouth to reassure him, then decided otherwise and turned his head to stare out of the mucky window of the carriage as they approached his house in Mayfair.

* * *

The next morning

Niklaus stood outside the stables, dressed shoddily in mismatched attire, his head wrapped in a gaudy, red scarf, which would cause his valet to die from shame if anyone looked at him but thankfully there was no one outside at four in the morning to observe his faux pas except Richard who was too busy saddling his horse to notice his clothing choices.

'I wish you the best of luck Richard', he said finally. 'I hope you emerge unscathed from the confrontation with Lord Milton.'

'You take an inordinate amount of pleasure in my impending doom,' commented Richard as he adjusted the saddle. 'It is revenge for my rather spectacular singing performance in front of father last night I presume.'

'I have never heard such a...moving rendition of 'Drown it in the bowl' in all my years on this Earth', agreed Niklaus. 'I think you managed to torture every living being within a five mile radius.'

Richard merely grunted in response as he mounted the horse.

'Well, young Nik', he said, looking down at the dowdy figure of Niklaus from atop his huge sweet goer, 'I bid you a fond farewell. Remember to visit Michelle and her mother at G and look after Darcy at Cambridge. He'll need your help with that rake, Wickham.'

'Aye, Captain',replied Niklaus, grinning mischievously. 'I'll make sure to tell Michelle how bewitched you are with her too.'

Richard aimed a hard kick at his chest but Niklaus leapt out of the way and disappeared into the house.

Richard sighed heavily in resignation and turned his steed and trotted out of the stables. He had news to impart, to a pair of disgruntled parents and a miffed sister waiting for his arrival at Milton.

* * *

 _Milton Hall_

 _23rd September 1804_

 _My Darling Mich_

 _I was very pleased to receive your letter the day before last. It helped in lifting my spirits (I was feeling quite morose, all alone in this giant house) and for that I'm grateful. But unfortunately, the arrival of your letter also led to the discovery of my mischief. For you see, according to Miss Price, writing letters unsupervised is not an advisable past time for a young lady. She seems to have forgotten that she was the one who had asked me to write letters in the first place._

 _And so I was asked to show all my letters to Miss Price before leaving them for the post. I refused her on the grounds that it was My Private Correspondence and she had no right to read it. Consequently, I was taken to Father's study (Sometimes I wonder if she has no better job than bothering Father all the time? I am tempted to think that she's half in love with Father!) and made to stand there like a guilty party while she narrated my so called follies to him. Father, thankfully, agreed with me on the condition that I show my letters to_ _ **him.**_ _I have no issue with the sentence pronounced. After all, a governess cannot be made party to the Fitzwilliam family secrets that I'm 'bound' to spill in my letters and especially not one who is the 'the Very Soul Of Discretion' like our Miss Price._

 _Father has been in a black mood since last morning when he received some correspondence from London. I think it has to do with Richard, for Richard didn't come home but entered the Fitzwilliam family pew quietly after the Sunday services begun. While someone might think that it was quite religious of my brother, I do know he only did this to avoid Father's wrath for even my father cannot raise his hand or voice on him in Church where we all must maintain the strictest decorum. They are downstairs in father's study and Father is shouting at him again. I wonder what he has done to deserve this treatment? He has been an exemplary student at Cambridge, the best in rowing and second to only Cousin Darcy in fencing. All Father and Mother seem to do is shout and rant and rave at him. My poor brother._

 _I'm sending the book of fairytales as I promised and you need not worry about the charges for Father has already taken care of it. It will reach you a day or two after my letter so that you are aware that you do not have to pay for it. Honesty is rarer than French wine these days. My Best Regards to your mother and grandmother and love to sustain you till we see each other again._

 _Yours, most sincerely,_

 _Alina_

 _P.S. Oh dear! I have finally found out what Richard has done to warrant Father's anger. He has gone and purchased a commission in His Majesty's Army. Father is furious and Mother is heartbroken. They tried their best to convince him to join the ranks of the clergy or become a barrister but my dear brother is adamant that he will become a redcoat. England and France have been at war intermittently my whole life and while I do care for England, I do not want to lose my dear brother to the ravages of war. It seems that our concerned pleas are falling on deaf ears for my brother has stamped out of the room and proceeded to the Guest Wing. He might have left the house altogether were it not for the scandal that would inevitably follow his departure and residence at any other establishment for why would the son of an Earl sleep at an inn when his Estate was just 5 miles away? I must go and console mother now. God bless you, my dear friend._

End of Chapter Two

* * *

 **If you liked it, do take a minute to review, you'll make my day :)**

 **PS If you find yourself bored by the letters in the coming three chaps, telling you in advance that from chapter 6, this story is in prose.**

 **Response to Reviews on Chapter One**

English Lit Lover: Best first review ever! Thank you :D

Politta-crr-What a username. Thank you Politta :) I was very sad in the last chapter too. Losing someone is a really painful process and writing it..well, some of it came from experience.

* * *

 **TRIVIA**

The song Richard sang with great gusto in front of the entire Wentworth household.

Drown it in the Bowl.

The glossy sparkle on the board,

The wine is ruby bright,

The reign of pleasure is restor'd,

Of ease and fond delight.

The day is gone, the night's our own,

Then let us feast the soul;

If any care or pain remain,

Why drown it in the bowl.

This world they say's a world of woe,

That I do deny;

Can sorrow from the goblet flow?

Or pain from beauty's eye?

The wise are fools, with all their rules,

When they would joys controul:

If life's a pain, I say again,

Let's drown it in the bowl.

That time flies fast the poets sing;

Then surely it is wise,

In rosy wine to dip his wings,

And seize him as he flies.

This night is ours; then strew with flowers

The moments as they roll:

If any pain or care remain,

Why drown it in the bowl.


	3. A request

**Chapter Three**

 **A/N: To everybody who reviewed/followed this story, thank you very much. It is because of you guys I went about grinning like an idiot the past few days.**

 **Dedicated to my GrandMum who makes everything better.**

 **2/4/16-Added a bit of prose to this chapter.**

* * *

 _Milton Hall_

 _30th October 1804_

 _Dearest Michelle_

 _Please forgive me for my lack of courtesy in writing to you a month after I received your reply. You may think that I only write you when it suits me and I know I should not share all my burdens with you but I fear I shall go mad and see no other solution to my distress other than writing to you. You are a quiet, calm lake in the turbulent storm that is my life._

 _Richard left for London soon after I wrote to you, after persistent requests and entreaties by our parents to forgo his choice of a profession frustrated him to no end. When he heard that they were contemplating asking his beloved friend Viscount Wentworth and Cousin Darcy for assistance in persuading him to choose a safer profession, he rode away to London within a half hour. I tried to stop him from leaving and couldn't help the tears that rolled down my cheeks when he saddled his horse. When he saw that was sobbing like a babe, he embraced me and told me that it was time for him to make his own way in the world. He promised me that he would write to me as frequently as possible and as I could think of no excuse to make him stay, I let him go._

 _Mother has been in some sort of trance since Richard has left. Father and she blame themselves for his recklessness. But in their hearts, they both know that Richard was too independent and self-respecting to shackle himself to the estate and leave himself dependant on Robert by becoming an advisor to him when Robert inherits Milton and he has neither the temperament nor the inclination to become a clergyman. Richard would always make inappropriate sermons were he to become a clergyman that would scandalize all the old biddies in the neighborhood. I do think that he would have made a impressive barrister as my brother remains unmatched in wit. He would have the best lawyers in London running to their homes with their tail between their legs._

 _Dear, I shall have to post this letter without showing it to Father, as I doubt he would appreciate the unladylike language I have used in this missive of mine. Why must I be lady, why must I be all the model of propriety when no one can see me except you? I trust you Mich darling, you would never give me away to the TON. They will never know that the youngest of Earl Milton is a intelligent, independant, nature spirit._

 _I hope that this most improper letter of mine finds you in the best of health and spirits. I am glad that you enjoyed the book of fairytales. While you prefer Rapunzel, I am undeniably charmed by the amiable dwarves in Snow White though I harbor a hatred of the deepest sort for the evil stepmother! Please, write to me soon, for I long for your news and am anxious to know that all is well with you in G. My best regards to your grandmother and mother and warmest embraces and love to you._

 _I remain,_

 _Your loving friend,_

 _Alina_

* * *

 _Milton Hall_

 _3rd November 1804_

 _My Most Stubborn Brother,_

 _I was very pleased to receive your letter. However, I cannot, for a moment, believe that you are as happy as you claim to be in your faux-cheerful letter. I may be a child of thirteen but I am in no way blind to the feelings and emotions of my dear ones, unlike a dear relative of ours who lives in Kent. And you do know, dear brother, that you are the one I love the most in the world and I wish for you to be incandescently happy. Please, don't throw this letter in the fire in a fit of pique, I beg you to listen to what I have to say and then this letter can burn in the fires of hell for all I care._

 _Why do you not write to Father and Mother? Yes, I do know that they tried to persuade you to forgo your choice of this profession instead of supporting your decision and then instead of calmly listening to your reasoning, threatened to bring in the cavalry comprising of Viscount Wentworth and Cousin Darcy. But what you do not realize brother, is that they love you very much and are scared for your safety in the dangerous battlefields of England and France. They are afraid, that you in your impulsive, reckless, folly of youth might take some action that could cause you to lose a limb or worse your life. They are our parents, it is their one joy in life, to worry about us incessantly and then bother us about it. You must not begrudge them that._

 _You know very well that Father could have used his connections in the Army to remove you from your post or else place you in the militia instead of the more respected regulars but he has not done so. He doesn't approve of your decision, I can tell and may not for a very long time but for now, he has made his peace with it and is anxious for news about you._

 _He devours the letters you send to me and he was pacing in front of the fire in his study for half the night after reading the one in which you described your narrow escape from death as the most humorous incident in the history of the trainees._

 _Mother has taken to her bed and has not emerged from her bedchamber for a sennight. First, it was you, rushing off to London to become a redcoat and becoming temporarily deaf whenever she tried to plead, beg, persuade you to abandon your thought of bringing England glory with your heavy, encrusted Milton sword which has been in our family for two hundred years. And then, last tuesday, a horse-our most wild, untamed one-escaped from the stables and the trampled Mother's herb garden, her pride and joy and only solace in these sad times._

 _The stable boy was dismissed and the gardeners tried their best to salvage what they could but mother was inconsolable. She blames herself for your aloofness, Richard and this has compounded her misery._

 _Please, dear brother, I beg you to write them. Even a short missive would make their faces shine with happiness. Forgive them, brother and you will find your heart is happier and lighter than before._

 _Your loving sister,_

 _Allie_

* * *

Meanwhile in Cambridge...

Niklaus and Darcy's room  
Cambridge

November 6th 1804  
Midnight

Nicklaus stretched in his chair fagged to death, watching Darcy clean the blood off his knuckles in the basin. Darcy looked a fearsome sight. His hair was in disarray, his clothes were torn and covered with flecks of blood. He had just gotten into a rather nasty brawl with Wickham in the corridor outside their chamber.

The elbow-crooker had sauntered into their room with a bird, expecting it to be empty and had come face to face with two stunned and angry men. This had been the last straw for Darcy who had borne the brunt of Wickham's licentious activities for all his years at Cambridge: he had been reprimanded innumerable times for Wickham's disreputable behavior for Darcy's father was his sponsor, he had paid almost all the shopkeepers in Cambridge to settle the trail of heavy debts Wickham left in his wake, he had arranged shelter for various girls impregnated by the swine. He had kept quiet for his father was quite fond of Wickham who was also his godson.

But now, Darcy had reached the end of his tether and seeing Wickham bringing one of the Haymarket ware into their chamber had lost his composure and dragged Wickham out by the collar and landed a unforgettably magnificent facer on him as soon as they crossed the threshold of the room. Maybe he did not want to get blood on the rather fine carpet gifted by Niklaus' father. It had been an unusual gift. Anyway, Niklaus had wanted to applaud when Darcy socked Wickham for boy, Wickham had been asking for that, daring to bring a chit into their room after he had been warned that further misbehaviour would have far reaching consequences on all of them by one of their senior most professors.

Darcy had pulled back his arm to draw Wickham's cork when Niklaus had been forced to restrain him for a crowd had gathered around them, boys already placing bets on the fight. It would do Darcy no good if word of the fight reached Mr. Darcy's ears as the old man was entirely too trustful and believed every honeyed word that came out of the sycophant's mouth. Wickham would make it seem as if Darcy had attacked him unprovoked out of jealousy, a thing he had done too often in their childhood, Darcy had confided in him.

'I despise him with every fiber of my being,' said Darcy venomously, breaking Niklaus out of his reverie. 'I do not see why Father needed to send him to Cambridge. He's a steward's son, of what use is a Gentleman's education to him?'

Sometimes, Darcy could be a tad elitist.

'What makes you think that it his father's designation as a Steward that is responsible for his reprehensible behavior?', asked Niklaus. 'Have you not seen noblemen and gentlemen even more depraved than him?'

'It has everything to do with his father's position in my house,'shouted Darcy, his face becoming red with anger. 'That bastard, he has been brought up in the lap of luxury, given comforts he did nothing to deserve, he believes he is entitled to a Gentleman's life solely because of the kindness my father has shown him. He thinks he merits it, the fancy clothes, the fine carriages..bloody everything without lifting a finger to earn any of it.'

Niklaus remained silent, Darcy needed to vent his anger. It had been years in the making.

His voice dripping with resentment, he continued, 'My father, he knows of Wickham's delusions but he had not done anything to dispell them. He encourages it in fact by providing him his tutelage. In his eyes, Wickham can do no wrong. You wish to know why I cannot report Wickham's wrongdoings to Father? His ears are filled with Wickham's bags of moonshine. I cannot compete against his magnificence. I am Darcy, his heir who has to be taught the ropes of the estate but further conversation is unnecessary. Tis Wickham he talks to, Wickham he laughs with, Wickham he treats like a son.'

He collapsed onto the bed, facing away from Niklaus, who had no idea about how to go about comforting him. If only Richard were here, he would have known what to do. Sighing, he forced his tired legs to support his weight and walked out of the room. A fiercely private man like him, he must have been embarrassed by his angry outburst. The least he could do was give him some privacy to collect his thoughts.

End of Chapter Three

* * *

 ** _A/N: Dear readers, if you liked this, please review. They inspire me to write more._**

 ** _And I know, Alina will sometimes seem very mature to you but that was the way of the world then. Young girls, regardless of what sphere of society they belonged to, were acutely aware of what was expected of them. Alina is no different. She is aware that she is supposed to be lady like and demure and she does try but sometimes, that urge to be free of these stifling rules takes over and she becomes a rebelling teenager which is what she is supposed to be. Girls were made to grow up before their age as it was drilled into their heads from an early age that they had to marry well yet remained naive to many dangers in the outside world because they guardians saw fit to marry them off but didn't warn them about rakes who could ruin them, all in the name of protecting their easily influenced minds._**

 ** _Alina is always going to be a bundle of contradictions. Sometimes she will be horrendously immature and sometimes, she'll be incredibly wise for one so young. But isn't that how it is for teenagers? It will be more fun when she grows up and is out in society. She may seem like Elizabeth but she is a lot more perceptive and sensitive to the thoughts and feelings of others around her and that makes her all the more precious and unique._**

 ** _Once again, please review. I would love to know what you liked and what you think will happen. I'm open to suggestions ;)_**

 ** _P.S. Invisible Guest, I have expanded my AN to explain the questions you asked in your review. Hope it satisfies you :D_**

* * *

 ** _Response to Reviews on Chapter Two_**

LovePP: Lady, you do not know how heartening it was to read your review. It gave me the much needed encouragment when I had just begun work on this story. Thank you!

Piscandru: Alina is 13 in 1804. And you will definitely be meeting the Bingley's and the Bennets, probably sooner than you think.

Phillipa Gordon: I'm glad you enjoyed it. I write for our enjoyment. You were my one loyal reviewer when I was a newbie and boy, did they inspire me to write. Thank you Phillipa :)

Guest: Thank you! Your review taught me that even two words can make my day ;)

MakingMarauderMischief: Love your name, I'm a potterhead too. Your review made my day. I was really insecure about this story. Thank you!

English LitLover: Lord Milton is like a coconut. Hard outside and soft inside. He enjoys Alina's antics, but he has to be the strict parent sometimes. Parenthood. Well. Thank you for reviewing!


	4. Christmas is coming!

**Chapter Four**

 **Reminder: Late Uncle Thomas is Michelle's father and the former Lord Canterbury. The new Lord Canterbury who threw out Michelle and her mother from Canterbury estate is his cousin. I have just made up that Canterbury is an estate near Milton Hall in Cambridgeshire and it may not be historically accurate but this is fiction so bear with me.**

* * *

 _Milton Hall_

 _17th November 1804_

 _My Dearest, Darling Brother_

 _Ah! You stare at the endearment in disbelief and wonder what mischief I have been upto that I address you so fondly. Fear not, brother, I have not done anything that you would not approve of. Your clothes and belongings are safe, I have not put any sort of insects in my bed to scare the maids, I have not threatened any guests with death and I have most certainly not said anything improper to Aunt Catherine. Since your departure, I have become the most docile, demure girl in all of England. You stare at my words with disbelief. Fine, I shall amend it to all of Milton Hall. Since, there are no young ladies to be found here, except yours sincerely, I am automatically, the most docile girl in Milton Hall! I am only guilty of slipping a disgusting arachnid in Lord Canterbury's coat while he met with Father in his study. I wish you had been here to witness the results. His face turned blotchy red and he jumped about, hopping like rabbit in order to get the repulsive thing out of his coat in the foyer. All of the maids were giggling while father stared at him helplessly and I watched avidly from behind one of the great curtains. He finally ran out of the house without even a 'by your leave.'_

 _Father knows I was responsible for this but he hasn't punished me, for I know, that in his heart, he despises Lord Canterbury as much as I. He has treated Dear Uncle Thomas' family most abominably. He could have let them stay at Canterbury without any great expense to himself, but that greedy, spawn of the devil, threw them out. I do not think that he will visit us again. Brother, I had a favour to ask of you. You know that Michelle is my dearest friend and I love her like a sister but she does not tell me anything. She does tell me that she is happy and in the best of spirits but she never expounds on her living conditions, the neighbors or anything related to her daily life. She told me that Viscount Wentworth had visited her mother and her at G recently and since he is such a dear friend of yours, could you please ask him how she fares?_

 _And, you had a hand in Father's lenient treatment of me too. Father was immensely relieved to receive a letter from you and since he thinks that I encouraged you to do so, he has turned a blind eye to my antics. And Mother is on the road to recovery as well. She has started looking after her herb garden again. Father asked her if he should tell our Darcy cousins and Aunt Catherine not to come for Christmas as she is not fully recovered but our dear mother, like me, is adamant to have amusement and gaiety at Milton once again. I, frankly, do not see how having the our dear aunt who bears an unfortunate resemblance to a harpy will lead to gaiety, but her sermons about the hundred ways to improve ourselves (herself excluded as she after all is a paragon of virtue and perfection) may serve to amuse us. But if she insults my drawings again as improper and distasteful for a lady, she may find a whole lot of nasty insects in her bed. I do not wish to draw trees and ponds and mountains. What are rocks and mountains when compared to people? I have included a sketch of Lord Canterbury and the spider for your perusal with the letter. May it make you smile in dark times._

 _Miss Price will have apoplexy if I write any more and post a thick letter for that is certainly an unladylike thing to do. After all, ladies are not supposed to write long letters as they are expensive to pay for. To prevent Miss Price from bursting a vein, I have given the onus of delivering this letter to you to Mr. Brian, one of our footmen, who travels to your town to visit his family._

 _I await your arrival at Milton._

 _Yours,_

 _Allie_

 _P.S. I wager my Christmas present from Lady Catherine shall be a book of sermons on proper behavior._

* * *

 _Milton Hall_

 _20th November 1804_

 _Dear Fitzee and Georgie,_

 _I hope this letter of mine finds you in the best of health and spirits! Please_ _pardon my excessive exuberance but I find that I can no longer control my enthusiasm as Christmas approaches. You do not know how eagerly I await your arrival at Milton Hall. Our grand home has been such a dreary place since Richard's departure. I am looking forward to the gaiety your visit shall bring. I know you stare at my words incredulously as the two of you are the quietest people of my acquaintance but your serene presence is enough to bring a smile to my countenance._

 _And Cousin Darcy, you truly cannot be miffed at me still for telling Richard the incident about your tailcoat. We as Fitzwilliam siblings, can never be expected to leave an opportunity to tease you. That is truly unreasonable. I know you think of Richard and I as your brother and sister and thus, it is our filial obligation to see that you remain firmly bound to Earth and do not think too much of yourself after all the adulation you receive._

 _And cousin, you must bring me a beautiful present to compensate for the horrid book of sermons on proper behavior I am going to receive from Aunt Catherine. You shall be glad to know that my partner in crime has been sent away to G by her cruel uncle and thus the mischief I may commit is greatly limited. You shall be mostly safe at Milton this year, I think. This shall be a family holiday so you shall also get some respite from the relentless pursuit of your dashing self by single ladies._

 _I remain,_

 _Your wild, improper sister,_

 _Allie_

 _P.S. Georgie, I have managed to play a passable rendition of a christmas carol. Unlike last time, the dogs did not run away howling but merely flapped their ears in resignation and lay still. Unfortunately, that is the best I can do when asked to play the pianoforte so let us pray to the Lord, for all our sakes, that Aunt Catherine does not ask me to play. For if she does, I will have to insist that we play a duet together to save everyone from the hearing damage I am sure to inflict on them if I play alone._

* * *

Specially for April Fools Day

Pemberley's conservatory

Derbyshire

15th December 1804

Darcy sat absolutely still on a straight backed chair that dug into his shoulders, trying to stop his hand from twitching for then Georgiana would be terribly angry with him because she was making his potrait.

Alina had sent her a beautiful drawing of her neighbor running about Milton Hall's foyer, covered in spiders with her letter and Georgiana was determined to make her a painting even more exquisite than Alina's drawing had been. So, he had been woken at an ungodly hour, deposited in a hard chair and told to sit in absolute stillness without so much as moving a hair. He had been sitting there for hours, his legs were stiff and his stomach was growling for sustenance yet every time he made to get up, Georgiana directed such a fearsome glare in his direction that he sank back into the cushioned seat immediately.

It was all Alina's fault, it was her drawing that had caused Georgie to take on the mantle of being the Darcy version of Da Vinci and he was determined that he would be buying all the volumes Fordyce had ever written and gifting them to her for Christmas as revenge. He would force her to read them by asking her questions about them in the letters he wrote, Uncle Damien read them he knew and thus, Alina would have no choice but to read the books.

Smirking deviously at his cunning, he got up from the chair to stretch his legs and was soundly admonished by Georgiana for his thoughtlessness.

'But Georgie', he begged plaintively, 'Aren't you finished?'

'I suppose,' she replied, doubtfully, appraising her painting. Whatever she saw made her so happy that she clapped her paint-stained hands in delight.

'Will', she exclaimed, 'I think this might be my best work.'

Rather pleased that it was his profile that his sister described as her finest work, he moved slowly towards her, eager to see the painting in question.

As he moved to stand behind Georgiana who looked at the canvas lovingly as a mother gazed at her new babe, he was confronted with the truly horrendous sight: There was an irregularly shaped figure, his head topped by a big black blob, his arms and legs being sticks that poked out of rather small, bright and garish clothes and he was covered in red dots.

'What are they?', he asked, revolted. This was not what he had expected at all.

'Ants,' Georgie replied, impatiently. 'I couldn't cover you in spiders or Allie would know I copied her drawing. Isn't it beautiful?'

'I..It is breath taking, Georgie,' he commented, lying through his teeth. 'It is so beautiful that I fear for its safety. Someone might destroy it out of envy. We must hide it in a safe place.'

'Really, brother?,' Georgie asked, her little face shining with happiness.

'Yes,' he affirmed, his expression pained. 'We must make sure that nobody lays their eyes on it.'

* * *

Two days later

Darcy was collecting the presents he had purchased for his family for Christmas when Georgiana burst into his room and ducked under the bed, mumbling furiously under her breath: 'Where is it?'

'What are you searching for, Georgie?', he asked amused at his sister's antics. 'Have you lost your Rosie too?

Rosie, his cousin Alina's favorite doll was now part of the Fitzwilliam family legend. Alina lost her doll once in every sennight and then turned the entire house upside down as she searched for it.

'I cannot find it', his sister exclaimed as she emerged from under the bed, her head covered with dust. 'I cannot find the potrait I made in the Conservatory.'

Darcy darted a nervous look at his desk whose second drawer contained the portrait, buried and safe from prying eyes under mounds of useless paper. Georgiana fortunately did not notice and collapsed moodily onto his bed.

'I was going to gift it to Allie for Christmas', she said, sadly. 'I thought that she would like pictures of us to look at when she misses us. So, I drew a picture of me too.'

She took out a folded square of paper out of her pocket and shook it open. It contained a picture of a small girl, smiling, her hair made into a conical bun and was captioned: For my dear sister, Allie. It was as nicely drawn as his potrait. Drawing was definitely not one of Georgiana's strengths.

Sighing, for he couldn't deny his sister anything, he took the drawing out of his drawer and handed it to her.

The sheer delight on her face was worth all the insults that were going to be directed his way when everyone saw the drawing.

End of Chapter Four

* * *

 _A/N: Soldiers were not paid a salary for the services rendered but instead received only a small bonus and any prize money they might win in wars. So, all gentlemen who enlisted in the army, especially men belonging to the peerage were given allowances by their family to maintain their lifestyle. Also, commission's were not cheap to purchase, with the commission for a Lieutenant-Colonel (which Richard incidentally is in this story at this point of time) being worth 3500-4000 pounds. So you might guess that Richard was in a financial crunch and this is why Alina sends a letter through the footman, for she does not want him to pay for the thick letter she had written. She is improper but she's a sweetie!_

 _And if you liked this story enough to read till this chapter, could you please review and make my day? Please?_

 _Love,_

 _Mango_

* * *

Response to Reviews on Chapter Three

Guest: I wish you had logged in, you stupid person. You gave me my first review dude. I had posted this story on 28th Dec and no one commented and I was like, 'Bloody hell, they don't like it.' Then you reviewed on Jan 6th. You're part of the reason I continued writing. Thank you :)

Phillipa Gordon: I love Colonel Fitzwilliam too. He's such a cool guy. I really wanted to give him a history you know. I've been researching about soldiers in Regency Era like mad and I found loads of interesting stuff like the max. age for applying for a commission is 21. So Richard is 22 when the story starts as he applied a year earlier.

Invisible Guest: Nice name. Thank you for your review. I was so happy to hear..uh, read your thoughts about the story. You asked loads of questions, so let me get started. Well, her real name is Aleyna-Marie, suggested to me by a Russian friend. You'll find out more about her heritage in the coming chapters. I've already answered that Alina is mature part earlier. Same for the dinner question. Ages are there in the timeline, I apologize for not posting it earlier. I don't know about the letters but I have been trying to show everyone's thoughts. And Michelle, we're going to meet her soon. I'm happy that you clicked on my story too :D You said you'll see me soon on another chapter, but I haven't heard from you. Looking forward to some contact. Thank you for your review!


	5. Conversations and Observations

**Chapter Five**

 ** _Dedicated to Phillipa Gordon, this girl is damn sweet and my newest friend huntermoon52, check out her stories if you are a Sherlock fan, she writes amazing stuff._**

Phillipa Gordon: Thank you for your review :D I'll try to post more trivia after the chapters. Like how a coach, barouche, phaeton and landau are different ;)

* * *

 _Previously_

 _Alina puts a spider in Lord Canterbury's coat, tells Richard to enquire about Michelle's living conditions from Viscount Wentworth and tells Darcy he deserves to be teased in order to remain grounded and confides in Georgiana that her playing has improved to such an extent that the dogs no longer howl balefully when she plays and instead, merely flop their ears in resignation. She also wagers that she will be receiving a book of sermons on proper behavior from Lady Catherine._

* * *

 _Milton Hall_

 _1st December 1804_

 _Dear Michelle,_

 _I beg to read this Michelle, please give me a chance to beg your forgiveness. I could not live with myself if I lost your friendship because of my stupid behavior._

 _Please forgive me, Michelle, Please. I had no inkling that my enquiry about your welfare from Viscount Wentworth would make you so angry. It is not that I do not trust you, my dear friend. I trust you more than any one else, Mich. I would not be writing about how improperly I behave in great detail if I did not trust you to keep all my secrets. I love you like a sister, my dear and thus, I cannot help worrying about you._

 _And I do admit that I'm slightly neurotic. When you did not expound on your living conditions, I forgot that you are a person of few words, like my Cousin Darcy and instead took your descriptions to be exceedingly cryptic and a means to hide your real living conditions from me. Richard says that I read too many novels and they are responsible for my abominable, distrusting behavior._

 _Whatever be the reason, I humbly and sincerely apologize and beg your forgiveness. Please, find it in your kind heart to forgive me. I solemnly promise never to commit this indiscretion again._

 _I hope that you are well,_

 _Your repentant friend,_

 _Alina_

* * *

The Gardens  
Milton Hall

24th December 1804

Georgiana handed a scroll tied with a pretty pink ribbon to Alina hesitantly. Alina accepted it eagerly and untied the ribbon immediately, excited to see what Georgie had made for her.

She opened it to see two pictures that she assumed to be profiles of Darcy and Georgiana. Georgiana had put a lot of effort into them it seemed as she was not very proficient at painting and preferred the pianoforte over it yet she had taken the time to paint pictures of herself and her brother.

'I..I am not very good', said Georgiana, wringing her hands. 'But I thought you would like a picture of us to look at when we cannot be together.'

'I love them, Georgie',she said with a big smile. Delighted by her thoughtfulness, Alina picked up her young cousin and swung her around and the garden was filled with the pleasant sound of their happy, unguarded laughter.

* * *

Lord Milton and George Darcy watched the two girls playing in the garden. Their faces shone with happiness as they twirled in the garden and fell onto the grass, giggling.

'She is a good girl',commented one, watching the elder girl pick up his daughter and spin her around. 'She will make us all proud one day.'

'Catherine would have an apoplexy if she heard you saying that,' the other replied, his lips turned up in a sarky smile.

'Catherine is a fool', groused . 'She wishes for a marriage contract between Fitzwilliam and Anne.'

The Earl of Milton burst out laughing at that. 'I should thank the Lord that Catherine thinks Robert is the most disappointing heir on Earth otherwise it would be my poor boy who would be a victim of her matchmaking schemes.'

'Have you any clue about his whereabouts?', asked his brother seriously which wiped the smile off the Earl's face.

'Robert', he sighed, 'He is the most unpredictable of my children. I never know what he will do next. According to his previous letter, he is in Italy.'

'I don't know what goes on in Fitzwilliam's mind either', said Mr. Darcy, looking fixedly at his glass of brandy. 'I thought that Wickham's company would help him but he has withdrawn into his shell further.'

'That Wentworth boy, Sinclair's son is much better company than Wickham. Wickham is a nasty piece of work, I fail to understand why you insist on sponsoring him.' Lord Milton looked at his brother cautiously, he was excessively fond of that rake.

'Old sins have long shadows, Damien,' replied Mr. Darcy cryptically. 'Let us talk of something else. Tell me, shall you consent to a marriage contract between William and Alina?'

Lord Milton promptly choked on his sherry. 'I beg your pardon, George.'

'I have thought about this', George Darcy said casually. 'That girl of yours, she has more sense than half the misses in London put together. She'll be a good mistress of Pemberley. William is fond of her, she may be the only girl of his acquaintance he likes and Georgiana is devoted to her. Alina-Marie is quite affectionate towards them too. They would be happy and Alina would never lack anything. It is a good match, if I may be so forward.'

'George',exclaimed his brother amusedly. 'You have turned into a matchmaking mama! You leave Lady Kingston in the dust.'

'Don't remind me of that odious woman', Mr. Darcy shuddered. 'I've always believed that she and Catherine were separated at birth.'

They both dissolved into raucous laughter that startled the maids cleaning the adjacent rooms.

* * *

 _Milton Hall_

 _25th December 1804_

 _Dearest, Loveliest Michelle,_

 _Happy Christmas! May the Lord shower his choiciest blessing on you and your family._

 _I hope this humble letter of mine finds you in the best of health and spirits. I was very pleased to receive your letter and it reminded me once again how fortunate I am to have a prodigiously loyal friend like you. I cannot tell you how relieved I was to learn that you have forgiven me. Christmas is a time of miracles after all! I beg your pardon for being a most terrible correspondant as helping mother with her duties and preparing for our guests has kept me away from my writing desk._

 _While helping Mother I found out that running a house is no piece of cake. I only wonder how our mothers manage to do it day after day. There are hundreds of things to do or supervise. One has to discuss the menus with the cook, the cleaning and overall management of the house with the housekeeper, the household accounts have to be checked and maintained regularly, baskets for the tenants must be prepared and delivered personally. And all of this becomes a hundred times more complicated when the arrival of guests is imminent. Marriage is not a bed of roses as we have been taught. The story does not end with us looking our best in a ballroom, smiling prettily, making interesting conversation and managing to ensnare a rich and handsome heir. That, my friend is just the beginning._

 _I will talk of marriage no longer or Papa will be worried! It is indeed too early to think of it._

 _Christmas with my family has been beautiful yet lonely for your absence is deeply felt. Christmas feels incomplete without you here. I found myself running to your estate after I received all my presents like every year and was almost there when I remembered that the person I needed was no longer there. Forgive me my selfishness for if it is painful for me to not have you near, it must be agony for you to be away from Canterbury and be without your beloved Papa. I wish I could be there to embrace you and offer you all my love and support but all I have is the written word to convey that you are not alone._

 _I think I may possess the second sight for I had wagered that I would receive a book of sermons on proper behavior from Aunt Catherine and I did. Cousin Darcy's expression in that moment was priceless for I had told him to get me a nice present to compensate for the book of sermons Aunt Catherine was going to give me. I'm sending you a sketch of his incredulous countenance to make you laugh. I have not made any mischief involving Cousin Darcy this time. To do so without you, seems like committing sacrilege. My cousin has been at ease these holidays for neither was he bothered by any animal, insect or little mischievious girls nor was he trailed by ambitious single ladies and their unpleasant mamaa's at Milton. I thought he was going to cry with relief when Mama said that there would be no visitors, especially single ladies, this Christmas._

 _Mother and Father have been extremely happy after Richard's arrival a fortnight ago. Mother ran out of the house- to Miss Price's horror who believes that ladies should maintain decorum at all times and a young lady's best role model is her mother-and embraced Richard. Such displays of unrestrained emotions are not characteristic of Lady Milton but exactly what a mother would do and Miss Price fails to see it. Sometimes, I fervently wish that she would go back to wherever she came from and free us from her restricting, dour presence._

 _I would greatly wish to write more but I have to go meet my favorite maid Sarah. I have made her a beautiful drawing of her beloved brother who passed away last spring and I know she misses him terribly. I hope looking at his visage whenever she wants to will help in easing her pain._

 _Your loving friend,_

 _Ally-Kally_

 _P.S. I couldn't help but sign in my 'secret name', Mich-Kish. We were incredibly foolish that summer. I am sure Cousin Darcy will never forgive us for pushing him into the lake in front of Lady Arabella. He always had a soft spot for her._

 _END OF CHAPTER FIVE._

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading :) Please review. I would love to know your thoughts :D

COMING UP NEXT: 'D' for Drama. You're in for a surprise!


	6. The Midnight Escapade

**Chapter Six**

First non epistolary chapter. Full on Drama. Only Drama. Enjoy!

P.S. Guys, I know you are reading this, I can see that on the Stats Page but could you please please please review? I would love to know what you think. Writing on and on without any feedback feels like shooting in the dark!

 ** _Disclaimer: Any resemblance to actual persons, whether living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a fictious story about a fictious family set in a real location. These characters in no way reflect any member of the Fitzwilliam family._**

* * *

Alina put down her feather quill on her writing desk and sighed. Thank the Lord that Michelle had forgiven her. She did not know what she would have done without her. She was her first, truest friend and Alina wouldn't trade her for anything in this world or the other.

She gazed out of her window at the beautiful starlit sky and became lost in her thoughts. She wished that Michelle had been at Milton for Christmas. It would have been supremely amusing. They could have played jokes on Cousin Darcy, showed Georgiana the little meadow they had found once in the woods, the one which only Michelle could find again, they could have stolen cakes meant for tea, pretended to be out in society and dance to imaginary tunes in the ballroom. She hid it well but she was lonely. Everybody loved her but they looked only at the court jester she pretended to be. No one, except Michelle and Richard, ever saw the person she was underneath the wild, mischievous sprite she was to the world. And now, they were both gone. One to make his way in the world and the other, banished to a cottage in G because of entail laws that decreed that the estate pass on to a male heir. She would never marry a man whose estate was entailed. Never subject her daughters to the constant threat of eviction and the consequent financial instability if God forbid anything happened to their father.

She jumped up as the clock rang. It was finally midnight. The whole household would be in their beds and it would be safe for her to go and meet Sarah. Drawing her robe around herself, she tiptoed out of the room and made her way down the hall to the servant quarters, her drawing of Sarah's brother clutched to her chest. Just as she was making her way across the landing of the grand staircase to pass into the servant wing, she collided with somebody coming up the stairs. They both fell rather ungraciously to the cold, marble floor.

'Thief! Thief!', the ear-splitting shriek rang out loud into the night and judging from the horrible tone, the person she had collided with could be none other than Aunt Catherine.

She tried to escape to her room before the old Harpy woke up the whole household with the din she was making but Aunt Catherine hold on her was unexpectedly strong as she continued to scream.

'It's I, Alina, Aunt,' she admitted finally, if only to stop the noise and save herself from going deaf and thankfully, there was a sudden silence before she was roughly hauled to her feet.

'What are you doing out of your bed at this time of the night, you wicked girl?' Aunt Catherine asked, simultaneously shaking her so hard that her teeth rattled.

'Let go of me', she cried, frightened of her Aunt for the first time in her life.

Aunt Catherine's reply was interrupted by the sound of rushed footsteps and her father came running, her brother and Cousin Darcy close at his heels, all clutching candlesticks in their hands which illuminated the dreary scene. Lady Catherine stood tall and clutched the shoulders of a scared Alina like a fury from Hades.

'Catherine!', exclaimed Lord Milton crossly. 'Why in the Lord's name are you creating a ruckus at midnight? And unhand Alina, this very instant.'

'It is not I who deserves your censure dear brother, but your beloved, perfect daughter who roams the hallways of your house alone at night', declared Lady Catherine. 'Why don't you ask her what she was doing near the entrance to the servant wing?'

She pushed Alina towards her father who caught her before she could fall to the floor.  
'Catherine!', said Lord Milton angrily, his eyes glinting dangerously in the dark. 'How dare you treat Alina thus?'

'How dare I?, replied Aunt Catherine, incredulously. 'If you ask me, the girl could do with a hiding or two. Always running about in dirty petticoats, consorting with servants and being as coarse and wild as possible. She'll drag our name through the mud, mark my words.'

'Catherine, please leave me to deal with my daughter', the Earl said tiredly. They should have abstained from calling Catherine this Christmas. She was nothing but a loud, preachy nuisance.

'As you see fit Damien', she replied snottily and turned to go down the stairs when a piece of paper caught her eye. She picked it up and seeing the sketch on it, turned to her brother, her eyes blazing and her face flushed.

'I knew it! I knew it!', she exclaimed fanatically, brandishing the drawing at the Earl. 'I told you this girl would be trouble. Look, she draws servant boys and goes to meet them at night! She is just as wanton as her mother.'

'Catherine!', roared the Earl as Darcy tried hard to restrain Richard from attacking Aunt Catherine 'Go to your chambers before I lose my temper and slap you.'

But Aunt Catherine, it seemed, refused to stop once given a chance to detail her niece's inadequacies and her mother's fault in it.

'I told you not to marry that loose Russian witch. You already had a heir. But you, you were enraptured by her 'violet eyes'. Look what she's given you, a daughter who is even less morally sound than her!'

This impassioned but reckless speech was the last straw for Lord Milton whose patience for his sister's nonsense had been hanging by a thin, frail thread.

'OUT! You'll be out of this house at first light!' shouted the Earl, angered beyond reason by the insults to his family.

He handed Alina to her brother and gripping Catherine's arm, dragged her down the stairs and to her chamber. He pushed her inside and locked her door.

'You'll keep quiet if you know what's good for you, Catherine. You've already said enough,' he hissed through the door.

He looked up to see his daughter and nephew stare at him wide-eyed as Richard clutched the Bannister so hard that his knuckles turned white.

'Richard, send Burton to my study,' he ordered.'I need to make arrangements for your aunt's departure.'

'Darcy, escort your cousin to her chamber and lock her in. I shall deal with her in the morning.' He did not even look at Alina while saying this and looked past her at Darcy.

With this cold dismissal, he turned towards his study while tears ran down Alina's cheeks as she stared after him. She had just wanted to give Sarah a drawing of her brother for Christmas. And now her father was terribly angry with her.

'Allie,' called Darcy gently. 'It'll be alright.'

She could hold herself together no longer and ran to her cousin, collapsing and sobbing brokenly in his arms.

Darcy, sorely out of his element, nevertheless tried his best to console his little cousin. He murmured indiscernible words of comfort and rubbed her back till her sobs changed to hiccups. He offered her a handkerchief and Alina giggled meekly. Trust Fitzee to carry a hanky even in his night shirt!

He smiled at her and held out his hand, 'Come,let's get you to bed.'

* * *

Miss Price scribbled a few words hastily on a piece of paper and slid it under Lady Catherine's door.

END OF CHAPTER SIX

* * *

Be kind people, this is my first non-epistolary chapter and I don't have any beta to fine-tune my work.

I hope you liked this chapter :) I love Darcy in this, he's just so sweet!

Coming up next: The Aftermath of the midnight escapade.

* * *

Response to Reviews on Chapter Five

Guest: Thank you for your review :D :) The last chapter you found short was a preview for the fifth chapter. Hope you are satisfied with the chapter length now.

EnglishLitLover: I so agree with you. But a pair of fine eyes in Hertfordshire may entice him away from Alina for all we know ;) Thank you for your review :D


	7. Aftermath of the Escapade

**Chapter Seven**

A/N: This chapter has a bit of history about Lord Milton and Anne Darcy and quite a bit of Darcy-Alina interaction. Enjoy! _

prhood: It was your review that encouraged me to switch to prose even after the 7th chapter. Thank you so much for your advice and your review!

Janet Cobb: Thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story :) Thanks for that bit about the letters. It inspired me to write these extra Scenes for those chapters. Thank you.

EngLitLover: I just love Darcy in the sixth and seventh chapter. However, I'm afraid that he's going to become more serious as we go on.

* * *

The next morning...

Alina was waiting outside her father's study, pacing frantically as she waited to be called in. She had spent the last quarter hour in terrible suspense, agonizing over what her father would say to her.

Finally, her father asked her to enter in his gruff voice.

She entered his sanctuary and stood before his desk fearfully, like a convict awaiting the judge's sentencing.

He remained silent, facing the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back. He did not turn to look at her.

She waited.

'Do you enjoy troubling me?' he asked quietly.

Oh dear, it was even worse than she had thought.

'No, Papa,' she replied, her own voice low and ashamed.

'Then why were you roaming the house alone at night? You do know that I would never allow it, don't you?' he asked incredulously.

He had still not turned to face her.

'You would have not, Father,' she agreed.

'You have far more freedom than many girls of your age and sphere Alina-Marie,' he said strictly. 'I often look the other way when you engage in your various pursuits because I want you to have all that your heart desires. But that does not mean that you can throw off all responsibility and behave as you see fit, without caring the slightest for propriety. You may be like a sprite in nature but you are a Fitzwilliam and we do not do anything that could bring shame and censure upon our family.'

'Freedom and responsibility go hand in hand,' he continued. 'You cannot be free to do as you wish, if you cannot be responsible. You shall not be coming with us to London come February. If you insist on being careless about your freedom, then you will lose something you care about.'

'I am sincerely sorry for my actions Father,' she said in return. 'And I shall bear my punishment with fortitude for I deserve it.'

'I am proud of you and Richard, Alina, he said, his voice breaking. 'Do not let me down again, child.'

'I would never give you cause to feel ashamed of me again, Father,' she promised. She would not be shaken from her resolve.

'Be on your way then, Child,' he finished wearily, still facing the fire.

She embraced him from behind and then made her way out of the study, leaving her Father to his contemplations.

* * *

An interlude in Lord Milton's study

Damien Fitzwilliam was exhausted.

The winters had been unusually harsh and he was worried for the fate of many of his tenants. With huge amounts of snow covering the roads near the estate, it was difficult to get workmen to the estate to repair the tenant cottages. They had to rely on their own hands to do the necessary work. He had himself helped in repairing some of them and then had been harshly scolded by his sister for defiling his hands with the work of lower classes.

'I am a farmer, Catherine,' he had replied zealously. 'I may have a title but that is not due to any deeds of mine but the bravery and sacrifice of my ancestors. In essence, I am no different from those living on my estate and if they are making their livelihood by farming on my land, then it is my duty to help them in any way possible.'

His eldest sister had always possessed too many airs. She thought herself above half of England, that she could do everything better than everyone and looked down her nose at those working for her on her estate. Thus, it was no surprise that Rosings was suffering from the ineptitude of its mistress who insisted on taking care of even the miniscule details and failed miserably as a result.

Richard was out of the University and Darcy would be too in a year. He would send the boys to look after Catherine's estate once every year. Stewards were less likely to cheat her if they knew that two intelligent and well-built men were coming to check the accounts annually.

How he missed Anne, his lovely, kind, caring and gentle sister. She had been a balm to his soul in the days after their father had died while Catherine, almost on the shelf, harped on about being orphaned and how difficult it would be to find a husband for the season would be over by the time they came out of mourning. Anne, sweet Anne, had held him as he cried, sobbed for the Father and Mother who had left him alone, leaving too many responsibilities on his young shoulders, too early. He had been a young lad of twenty when he became Lord Milton. Anne, two years his senior, had held his hand as he learnt the ropes of the estate, learnt to manage the estate, look after his tenants and she had taught him to treat them like his own family. Sometimes, when he would collapse in his chair in front of the fireplace, after a particularly exhausting day, she would come quietly, a glass of warm milk in her hand and listen to him voice his concerns, troubles and offer suggestions. Anne would have made a better master than him, if only she had been born a son.

After they were out of mourning, Catherine managed to ensnare a man-to the surprise of all their acquaintances-the forty old jolly Sir Lewis De Bourgh and married him before he could be persuaded to change his mind. Anne was pursued relentlessly by the young and devoted George Darcy and though she loved him passionately, she resisted and confided in him that she could not bear to leave him alone at Milton. But, he was of age now, there was no reason for his sister to put her life on hold and help him shoulder the responsibilities that were in actuality, his and only his burden to bear. So, he had given his consent when George had approached him for his permission and Anne had stormed into his study, her eyes blazing, saying that there were easier ways of getting rid of her if he wished to, rather than throwing her at the first man who asked. He, however, had seen beyond the bravado, to the desperate hope and longing in her eyes and refused to withdraw his consent. George loved her as truly and deeply a man could love a woman, there was no one more worthy of his beloved sister's hand, he argued. She had ungraciously relented, though a smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she left his study.

Anne had married George Darcy, become the happiest woman in all of England and they were blessed with a son, his dear nephew, within a year of their marriage. The next twelve years had been hard for their marriage as Anne became with child seven times, yet failed to carry it to term. Her spirits were broken, her soul battered and bruised and she came to live with him and Alexandra, bringing young Fitzwilliam, a handsome young 'un of eleven years with her. Richard and Darcy had become impossibly close friends and Anne had loved painting the beautiful flowers Alexandra had planted all over the garden. They had been happy together and their happiness was only increased when they learnt that Anne was with child and had managed to carry it for four months, something she had been able to do only thrice before. Anne had begged him to let her stay at Milton Hall, she felt that she would be able to carry this child to term if she stayed for her second trimester. He could never deny her anything and immediately agreed. They had doted upon her, pampered her beyond belief for the next two months and his concern had annoyed her to such a degree that she refused to see him after he had refused to let her go alone on a walk. Alexandra, thankfully, had managed to resolve the conflict and persuaded Anne to allow her to accompany Anne on her daily walks.

George had come to take her back to Pemberley, unable to bear a prolonged separation from his wife and she had gone back, smiling and laughing, promising to name the boy 'Damien' after his beloved yet annoying Uncle. He did not know then that he would be seeing her for the last time. If he had, he would not have let her out of his sight, kept her at Milton and done everything to keep her alive.

Three months later, he had been woken suddenly at midnight by his wife, who sobbed brokenly and told him to go to Pemberley as fast as his horse would take him. He had travelled two days straight, on horse, in carriage, even in the post to reach his beloved sister's bedside who lay dying after giving birth to the first Darcy daughter, named Georgiana after her father.

He had been too late. Anne had already gone on to the heavenly abode when he knocked on Pemberley's door, filthy and tired after his travels. He had been greeted by the red eyes of the house-keeper who had broken down again upon seeing him.

'She is gone, sir,' she had sobbed brokenly. 'She is gone.'

His legs had given way and he held on to the door frame for support as tears ran down his cheeks. His beloved sister, his helpmate, his partner, his best friend, gone, gone from this world.

The days till the funeral had passed in a haze, he had drunk himself under the table to ease his agony. He was no comfort to George. He couldn't bring himself to comfort his brother, who had lost the love of his life, his better half, his wife, so consumed was he by his own unrelenting pain.

She had looked beautiful, her beauty untouched even in death. He had buried her and left for Milton immediately afterward, Pemberley was nothing but a tomb of her memories and an unwelcome reminder of her absence. At least at Milton he could pretend that she was safe, happy and _alive_ at Pemberley.

He was startled out of his melancholic recollections as the door opened to reveal his wife, his beloved Alexandra.

Her own violet eyes shined with tears as she looked at his tear-stained face. She walked towards him, her arms open in invitation and he stepped into her embrace as they both sobbed for the sister they had lost.

* * *

She was sitting on a bench in Milton's garden, out of sight of any of the house's windows, swinging her legs to and fro like a pendulum.

Suddenly, her reverie was broken by the sound of rustling leaves as her Cousin Darcy walked into her beloved sanctuary.

'Here you are,' he said quietly.

'Here I am,' she repeated, directing a watery smile in his direction.

He walked towards her and sat next to her on the bench and for a while both of them just stared at the beautiful vista in front of them. The sun was setting over the lake and it was an awe-inspiring sight.

'You're thinking that there could be no worse child in this world, aren't you?' he asked her perceptively.

'Cousin, you may add mind-reading to one of your many talents,' she replied pertly.

'No, I'm merely wise beyond my years,' he shot back and they both dissolved into quiet laughter.

'Yes, I am,' she admitted finally. 'But how did you know?'

'I too have been on the receiving end of our fathers' guilt inducing speeches. I cannot tell you how often I have felt like the scum of the earth after being rightfully admonished by my Father,' he commented casually as if they were talking about the weather. 'They are a staple part of every lucky child's childhood, Allie. You are not loved if you are not scolded enough by your parents.'

'But I am indeed horrible,' she lamented. 'I always manage to land myself in one fix after another.'

'You are a bit wild,' he conceded. 'But Uncle loves you as you are. You have been given more freedom than many of the girls of your sphere but there are times, where he must too draw a line. Sneaking into servant quarters at midnight is terribly improper no matter your purpose.'

'Yes, I realized that after dear Auntie Cathy's diatribe last night,' she commented drily.

Darcy grinned, 'You do have an exceptional talent for making her lose her temper. She was calling you a fish woman the entire time as I escorted her to her carriage at dawn.'

'That is better than being called morally loose or wanton,' she said, sharply.

Darcy looked at her in surprise. He had not expected her to bring up this topic.

'You must not take her words to heart,' he advised. 'I have been called a lame, shameless lout so many times that I've lost count.'

'A lame, shameless lout?' exclaimed Alina distractedly. 'What reason does she have to address you thus? I thought Richard and I were the only ones in her big, black book of improper relatives who must be reformed.'

'It might have something to do with the fact that I refused to marry our cousin Anne, after my first season in London. She believes it would be a match made in heaven,' he said, looking at the pretty red roses near the lake that his mother had loved painting.

'She wants to keep Rosings in the family,' Alina deduced. 'She knows Robert will not marry Anne and Richard is a soldier, so you are the only eligible mate.'

Darcy was taken aback. She was very perceptive for a girl of only thirteen.

'You do not treat me as a child Cousin,' she commented airily, seeing his expression. 'You talk to me as a friend.'

'You are my friend,' he replied. 'And as a friend, may I ask what my little sprite was doing near the servant quarters at midnight? Were you going to frighten the maids?'

'Fitzee!' she exclaimed crossly. 'I do not prey upon innocents.'

Darcy could not hold in his amusement at her indignant expression.

'Oh walloper of the wicked, the protector of the weak, pretty little avenger,' he said with a flourish. 'Tell me, whose honour were you protecting?'

'Cease this nonsense at once, Cousin,' she said, sticking her nose in the air like their Aunt.

'Your accurate portrayal of our Aunt doesn't answer my question,' he shot back, grinning.

'Fine, if you must know, I was going to meet Sarah,' she admitted ungraciously.

'Sarah?' questioned Darcy.

'My favourite maid,' she elaborated. 'She lost her brother last spring and she misses him terribly so I drew his portrait and wanted to give it to her for Christmas.'

'You foolish girl!'Darcy exclaimed.

'Foolish?' repeated Alina, incredulously. 'Foolish?'

'Yes, foolish. Incredibly, extremely foolish,' Darcy asserted. 'Why couldn't you have told Uncle Damien? He would've allowed you to meet her during the day and gift the sketch. Why did you have to go sneaking to her room alone at night?'

'It was a private gift,' she replied irately. 'If I had told Father, he would have sent her to the parlour to collect it in front of Miss Price and then everybody would have bothered her about what she was gifted by the _young mistress._ '

'A valid reason,' Darcy conceded. 'But couldn't you have requested him for a private meeting? He would have done so, if he knew the contents of the sketch.'

'Oh,' said Alina, 'You, Cousin, have an exceptional talent for making me feel foolish.'

Darcy grinned again. Being around this little, wild child made him strangely happy.

'Remember, my wise words, O cousin mine,' he proclaimed and they both smiled.

The sun had set and sky was littered with stars. He took off his coat and draped it around his cousin and there they both sat, gazing at the starry sky, lost in their thoughts yet comforted by the other's companionship.

* * *

_Phew. Longest chapter yet. 2600 words. I hope you liked it. Please review! I'm dying for some feedback :)

Love,

Mango


	8. Compromised!

**Chapter Eight**

And so, I am back. From hereon it is going to be 1-2 chaps per year until we reach 1811 and then, the fun begins.

In this chapter, we meet the Fitzwilliam heir, Robert, Lord Milton's son from his first marriage (I alluded to that in the sixth chapter) and step brother to Alina. Who is Richard's mother, is a question for another day ;)

What people, so much of Darcy/Alina and no reviews?

Janet Cobb: :D. Sending you a box of virtual chocolates.

to my godparents, who are the best anyone could ask for.

* * *

February 1805

Alina was counting the cracks in the ceiling of her bedchamber, an activity which was a tad difficult since there were no cracks in ceiling of said chamber. But there were only so many things one could do to alleviate boredom before you got bored again.

She was alone at Milton with only an estranged brother to keep her company while her parents amused themselves in London, all a result of a harmless thought on her part, to give Sarah a nice gift on Christmas. She was just about to begin counting the non-existent cobwebs on the ceiling when she heard someone tiptoeing past her door with the subtlety of a herd of elephants. Ah, who could it be and that too at this time of the night?

It was a well known fact at Milton that the young mistress often snuck out at night to snack on Mrs. Harrison's secret stash of biscuits that the poor woman tried her best to protect. But she'd stopped that after the 'Midnight Escapade' and resorted to merely mooning over the absence of good biscuits in the privacy of her bedchamber. Had she been even a little proficient at poetry, she would have written an 'Ode to the biscuit'. What were autumn and nightingales compared to biscuits? Well, since it was not her and the footsteps were too light to be Robert's who was a giant of a man, who could this unscrupulous person be?

Bored and curious, a deadly combination when it came to her, she snuck out of her chamber, barefoot and without a candle, trying to be stealthy while catching this intruder. She followed the sound of footsteps past her parents' and Richard's door, both of which were safely locked. Not a thief then. She walked silently until she came to Robert's room. The door was tightly shut but there were rustling sounds coming from inside. Had he asked his valet to steal a few biscuits for him? He was no more scrupulous than her when it came to biscuits. Determined to ask for her fair share of the spoils, she pushed open the door and then was shocked into speechlessness as she observed the scene in front of her.

The room was dark, the fire and candles extinguished and the only source of light was the moon, that shone happily through the window and illuminated Robert's bed, leaving the rest of the room in darkness, a fact she was thankful for, as it allowed her to observe without being noticed. Her dear brother was spread eagled on the bed, dead to the world as Miss Pembrooke quietly proceeded to lay beside him.

Even Robert was not stupid enough to arrange an assignation with a woman in his father's house and would definitely not be sleeping if he had called her for nefarious purposes. So, the conclusion was clear, Miss Pembrooke was a conniving fortune hunter who wanted to compromise her brother and force her to marry him. As her brother was snoring contentedly through his ruination, it fell to her to protect the family honour and so she would.

Tip Toeing her way to the fireplace, she slid one of the swords out of its sheath and it settled into her hand with a satisfying zing sound that scared Miss Pembrooke out of her wits but before the woman could even let out so much as a squeak, Alina was perched on the bed, the sword point digging into Miss Pembroke's throat.

Threatening her with decapitation if she dared to make a single sound, she kicked Robert with her foot and the oaf merely rolled over and started snoring again.

'Get up, you foolish pig!', she hissed, kicking him again for good measure. It seemed as if fate was smiling upon her as her brother rolled over again and promptly fell onto the hard floor. Nothing like a cold and hard awakening when you were being compromised. He raised himself from the floor with a pained grunt and then nearly keeled over in shock as he saw his sister perched on his bed holding a sword to Miss Pembrooke's neck.

'Brother,' smiled Alina, dangerously. 'Look who came to visit you at night.'

* * *

Earlier that evening

Alina pushed around the food on her plate with her fork trying to make it seem like she was eating out of politeness as her brother stuffed his face at the other end of the table. She would normally never insult Mrs. Harrison's cooking but not eating it but she was filled to the brim with the fruit cake she had stolen from the kitchen. It had been supremely amusing to steal the cake from under Mrs. Harrison's nose, who merely left the kitchen in resignation upon seeing her enter. Resistance was indeed futile, Mrs. Harrison understood that.

She had taken the cake out of the back door to share with her..her friends. The friends in question being the tenant children, aged five to twelve and ignored by their elder siblings in favour of farmwork and their mothers in favour of housework. Alone at Milton, with Michelle closeted at G, they were her only friends and she loved them dearly. They played so many interesting games.

They had played pirates with Alina taking the role of the famed pirate Drake and the girls were her crew. The boys had been the Royal Navy and had gallantly consented to be bludgeoned to death by the girls. Then, they had played Robin Hood, with Lord Canterbury being the evil king. They had stolen grass from his garden and given it to the poor sheep that were tortured by his refusal to let them graze on their land. They had to stop after rumours spread about a ghost sheep, who after being ruthlessly murdered by Lord Canterbury had come back to exact revenge on the man and protect her brethren from the greedy man.

She had detailed the incident to her brother in a letter and he had replied saying that all the officers in his regiment were jealous of him, for he had the best sister in the world. She had been so happy that day!

She was startled out of her reminiscences by the arrival of dear old Mr. Thomas, who had been at Milton when her father was a babe. The old man wheezed into the room, announcing a 'Miss Pembrooke', who hurried into the room after him, loudly declaring her misfortune to all and sundry as her carriage had lost a wheel on this dark, lonely night and she had nowhere to go. She walked towards Robert, who nearly knocked down his wineglass in his hurry to get away from her.

Undeterred, she swooned and promptly fell into Mr. Thomas' arms and the poor man nearly buckled under her weight. Thankfully, the footman, Mr. Brian, helped him lay Miss Pembrooke on the sofa. Robert made no move to help them. She could not blame him. Everybody who had ears in Cambridgeshire knew that Miss Pembrooke was infatuated with Robert and would go to any lengths to obtain him. Robert grumbled something about locking her in the Attic as Mr. Thomas held smelling salts under the nose of a lady who was clearly pretending to be insensible to the happenings around her.

Propriety demanded that they offer her shelter for the night and so they did but it was going be an interesting stay for Miss Pembrooke looked like a cat that got the cream and Robert looked at the ceiling, mayhaps asking for divine help throughout dinner.

* * *

Present

To say Robert looked gobsmacked was the understatement of the new century. The poor lad had been snoring away to glory and now he had awoken to two women in his bed, one of whom was holding a sword to the other's throat. Seeing that her brother would not be of much use, Alina prodded Miss Pembrooke with the sword and led her out of the room, the sword digging into the small of her back as Robert watched, flabbergasted.

After Miss Pembrooke had been sufficiently threatened to keep her trap shut about the night or risk expulsion from polite society, she locked her inside the room and asked a passing footman to keep guard until dawn when she was to be escorted to her house, carriage or no carriage.

She proceeded to her brother's chamber, lugging the heavy sword behind her and found him looking at the her with detached fascination.

'Well Brother, if you have finished staring, would you be so kind so as to keep this sword back from where I took it to protect your honour?'

Robert blushed and blurted out, 'How did you know how to handle a sword?'

'I beg your pardon.'

'Don't pretend to be stupid. You were not playing around with that sword. You knew how to hold and wield it. All I ask is how. Has Richard been teaching you?'

'Richard has done nothing of that sort.'

'Then who is your swordmaster?'

He did not look like he would accept stony silence as an answer.

'Why this sudden interest in my life? You have never even looked at me twice, forget talking to me. My attempts at friendship have always been rebuffed. Why should I tell you what you seek to know? Is it not enough that I saved you from being married to that harridan?

He shuffled his feet and looked at them guility.

'I was jealous,' he sighed quietly, so quietly that she could almost not hear him. 'Father loves you so much. And you pull everyone's attention to yourself without any effort. They all love you. I felt incredibly left out so I ignored you, out of some foolish desire for revenge on a child.'

'I am not a child!'

'Is that all you understood from what I said?'

'You are jealous of me. So? I envy you for being a man and having so much freedom. I envy Richard for having the strength to do what he wants. I envy mother for she is so much more beautiful than me. But it doesn't change anything. I love you regardless. It is part of being a family.'

'Are you always this intelligent or is this solely for my benefit?'

'Will you cease this childish behavior and decide what to tell Miss Pembroke's father when you send her home tomorrow? I have made arrangements for her to be sent home at first light.'

'You are resourceful.'

'And you are exceedingly slow. Now can we begin?'

Robert smiled at her and thus began a new friendship.

* * *

Two days later

Robert was slurping his tea and making a most irritating noise. Alina couldn't focus enough to read.

'Weren't you given a lesson in table manners at Eton? If this is how you consume food, it is no wonder that no one except Miss Pembrooke wants to marry you.'

'I am not the marrying type.'

'Oh! What are you, then? Some Shakespearean hero women swoon over and then cry for he breaks their hearts most cruelly.'

'I despise women.'

'Which is clearly the reason you have been following me like a puppy for the last two days.'

'I was trying to atone for my aloof behavior.'

'Yes, because the perfect remedy to mend a fractured relationship is to wake your sister at dawn and take her fishing.'

'I happen to enjoy fishing.'

'And I happen to hate it. The smell of the fish makes me want to expel the contents of my stomach.'

'Oh.'

The blessed silence lasted for only a few minutes.

'Who taught you to wield a sword?'

'You are not going to relent, are you?'

'No.'

'Well, if you must know, it was Jason.'

'That runt with the pagan father?'

'His father is not a pagan. He just has an unhealthy obsession with Greek myths. And you have abominable language. Father would box your ears for it.'

'And lock you in the Attic till you are thirty if he knew that you were learning sword fighting from that 'Jason'. Is he your beau?'

'He is my friend, brother. And I am not yet so old that I throw myself on every eligible man within a ten mile radius unlike your Miss Pembrooke.'

'Not my Miss Pembrooke. And I am surprised to see a young lady who delegates all the eligible young men of her acquaintance to brothers or friends. I do not know whether to be worried or pleased.'

Alina snorted and chose to ignore her brother.

Mrs. Harrison watched from behind the great curtain and surreptitiously wiped her eyes. The rift had been healed. All would be well again. All would be well.

* * *

Mrs. Harrison snuggled up against her husband.

'You are happy, dear', he commented, stroking her hair.

'Extremely so, Thomas', she replied, smiling. 'The young Mistress managed to charm Master Robert into burying his hatred. There will be happiness at Milton once again Thomas, the master is coming home for good.'

'She's a minx, that one', her husband laughed loudly. 'She can charm the crown off the king if she desires to.'

* * *

Next chap: Darcy's father dies.

Yeah, this is not that integral to the plot of P&P but this is Alina's story too.

REVIEW please! Dying for feedback.


	9. Letters

**Chapter Nine**

A/N: Hey Everyone, taking a break from studying :) A big thank you to prhood, toolazytologin, EngLitLover, coffeebookchiller, Gedoena, Janet Cobb and Captain Americaaa for reviewing.

prhood, you have no idea how much a review from you means to me. And yeah, I just cannot seem to fix on a title. I think I'll stick with this one, for LAF has a nice ring to it ;)

Toolazytologin, I wish you had logged in so I could tell you just how happy I was on reading your review. My smile was a mile wide after I read your words. And I, too, get jealous of Alina from time to time. She's just that awesome!

EngLitLover, thank you so much for your reviews on almost every chapter. I almost keeled over in shock when I saw five mails saying I'd gotten reviews. And I think, if Alina wants something, no one stands a chance, forget Darcy.

Captain Americaa, thank you darl, I love this story too :D

Coffeebookchiller: I'm so glad you like my story. Alina is five years older than Georgiana. I hope you're satisfied with the chapter length now. I really can't make it more than 2.5k+. Thank you for your review and your wishes!

Gedoena: First ever comment? THANK YOU :D I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts ;)

Janet Cobb: Thank you :D That's really sweet of you!

Before you start thinking that half the word count was the AN, I present to you, without further ado, the ninth chapter.

Warning: Contains an excerpt from Fordyce's sermons ;)

* * *

Previously

Alina protects the family honour and saves Robert from being compromised.

* * *

Blue Sitting Room

Fitzwilliam House, London

23rd February 1806

Dull.

Inane.

Tedious.

Foolish.

Monotonous.

Asinine.

Extremely foolish.

Alina amused herself by thinking of the various adjectives that could be used to accurately describe her governess as the lady in question read aloud from Fordyce, a thoughtful gift from dear old Aunt Cathy.

' ...there seem to me to be very few, in the style of Novel, that you can read with safety, and yet fewer that you can read with advantage.'

She was going to see Richard. It was very hard to sit still, knowing that her brother was going to arrive tomorrow.

'What shall we say of certain books, which we are assured (for we have not read them) are in their nature so shameful, in their tendency so pestiferous, and contain such rank treason against the royalty of Virtue, such horrible violation of all decorum, that she who can bear to peruse them must in her soul be a prostitute,' Miss Price coughed over the word and then apologized profusely for her scandalous mistake, 'let her reputation in life be what it will.'

What in heaven could the word mean, that Miss Price had been so scandalized? And his opinions of novels being shameful, pestiferous had no merit in her mind when he had not read them. Foolish,domineering man who wanted to control the minds of young women and dictate their behavior. He was not a young woman. He had no authority to tell them what to think, feel, read and write. She was not interested in listening to this nonsense for a moment longer!

'Please, Miss Price,' she interrupted, in her most injured voice. 'I am immensely fatigued and head hurts most terribly. I cannot pay Mr. Fordyce the attention and respect his enlightening words deserve. Please, Excuse me.'

Miss Price had no choice but to agree.

There are some benefits of rank after all.

* * *

War Office

London

24th February 1806

Dearest Allie

I, your most stubborn brother, beg for your forgiveness. I have received urgent orders and I must depart for Buenos Aires at first light. Despite my best efforts, I shall not be able to visit you at Mayfair. Opus primum as they say. I hope you will not be so exceedingly furious that you will refuse to write your poor brother-for whom, your lively letters are a solitary ray of sunshine in the darkness he chooses to live in.

God bless you sister,

Yours mischievously,

Richard

P.S. I have enclosed my writing directions in case you change your mind.

Alina read the note and sighed. What an adventurous life he had, her dashing red coat of a brother. Always going off, doing his duty towards the country, without any regard for his personal safety. Well, she had not touched her prayer book for days, so lost she had been in the sights and sounds of this great, monstrous thing they called London, and this was God's way of reminding her that she needed to get back to her prayers. Someone had to pray for that daredevil's safety after all.

* * *

The corridor outside Lord Milton's study

Milton Hall

12th September 1806

From a crack between the door and the wall, Alina watched her father pound from one end of the room to the other, mumbling furiously to himself and almost pacing a hole in her mother's second most favorite Persian rug that covered the floor in his study. He had received news about Richard, she was sure of it: after all, it was only Richard who could make her father traverse the room as it were a veritable battlefield and he had Bonaparte hot on his heels.

'This boy is going to be the death of me,' he muttered as he walked. 'Tis not enough that he has to join the army and fight the little frenchie, he has to go to the damn Latin Americas to cross swords with Santiago's men and almost get shredded to bits.'

After this provocative statement, he relapsed into silence and stood motionless in front of the fire, his stillness only broken when he occasionally ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. Seeing that he had no intention of elaborating on his dire pronouncement and concerned and curious about her brother's folly, she knocked sharply on the study door and asked for permission to enter.

'Good Evening Father,' she greeted her father's back as the man in question stared intensely at the dying fire, facing away from her and merely maffled something indiscernible in response. This was new. She had done nothing wrong and her father was sending her to conventry. Well, she could not be dissuaded easily.

'What has you so terribly agitated, Father?', she ventured. 'Perhaps, I could help.'

He spun around and glared at her like a fury from Hades. Oh dear! It looked like Richard had messed up royally this time.

'Your dear brother,' he spat angrily, 'has almost got himself killed yet again. It seems he was not taught the meaning of the word surrender at Eton.'

Alina had a sudden, mad desire to laugh. She clamped her teeth together to stop herself from going into hysterics. Stupid Dickie, did he really have to throw himself in the line of fire unnecessarily and worry his family?

'Thankfully, he was saved by a comrade of his, a Colonel Brandon, I believe. He is being sent home on leave.'

After this impassioned speech, her father collapsed in his armchair facing the fire and silence reigned, uninterrupted for the next quarter hour as he lost himself in his reflections and Alina struggled to master herself. It was not easy to be told that your brother had almost died yet again and then be expected to act as nothing had happened. And from what she could see, it was taking a toll on their father too.

'Will you let him go again, Father?', she asked softly, curious to hear his reply. Would this be the last time Dickie went to war?

'Do I have a choice, dear?', he returned rhetorically. He seemed resigned, the creases on his face thrown into sharper relief in the flickering light of the glowing embers in the fireplace.

Before she could even think of a reply, Mrs. Harrison hurried into the room, her face pale. She curtsied and held out a plain cream envelope, quite unremarkable in appearance but for the fact that there was a black Darcy seal stamped on its back.

Mrs. Harrison's tone was unusually grave as she said 'There's an express for you, Sir. From Pemberley.'

* * *

Lord Milton took the proffered envelope, his hands shaking and tried to break open the seal with his hand, uncaring about the damage to his nails. Alina took the envelope from his weak grasp, wordlessly cutting it open and then handed it back to him. He drew out the folded square of paper within, his hands trembling but he could not bring himself to open it.

He knew what a black seal meant. There had been a death in the family. Though it had been ten years since Anne died, the wound still hurt. Sometimes, it would be a phantom pain and sometimes, it was like a thousand knives being driven into his heart repeatedly. He could feel it pulsing, coming to life, reveling in the fact that the letter he had in his hand was going to give it company. He wanted to set the letter on fire, watch it being reduced to ashes and then pretend that he had never received it. His train of thought was interrupted when his daughter gently squeezed his shoulder, as if giving him strength to face this adversity. Sometimes, he felt that his children were far more braver than he ever had been in his life. Steeling himself for whatever the letter contained, he opened the folded sheet of paper.

* * *

Alina watched anxiously as her father's eyes practically flew across the missive. She could not read it from where she was standing so she waited and prayed fervently to their kind Lord, to let all of this be nothing but a terrible mistake.

Her violet eyes grew large with fright as her father rose unsteadily from his chair and then collapsed back into it, sobbing, holding his head in his hands. This frightened Alina more than she would ever admit, for she had never seen anything that had caused her Father to lose his composure completely. Panicking, she shook his shoulder, begging him to tell her what had happened but her father remained as he was, his body trembling with the force of his sobs.

She was pulled away by Mrs. Harrison who gestured at her to keep quiet and led her out of the room.

'Why did you-'

Her angry protests were interrupted as Mrs. Harrison handed her a sheet of paper , the very missive that had reduced her father to a sobbing, insensible mess.

Her heart in her throat, she began to read the letter, written in the beautiful penmanship of her cousin. As she read, the words meshed together on the page, in a seemingly nonsensical mixture but few of them stood out glaringly.

Sudden illness.

Physician.

Too late.

Request you to come immediately.

Dead, her dear old Uncle George, who snuck her sweets from the kitchen when no one was looking, who solemnly asked her to dance when she was seven and insisted on being 'treated like a lady', who had loved her like his own daughter, dead and gone from this world. She sank down onto the floor, drawing her knees up to her chest and cried.

She cried for her father, who had lost a man he considered a brother, she cried for her cousin, her stupid, proper 'grown-up' cousin, who was in actuality, a scared, uncertain boy who lived for the approval of his father, she cried for Georgiana,who had lost the only parent she had ever known. She cried for herself, for she had loved her Uncle and godfather dearly and now she would never get to see him again.

Mrs. Harrison rubbed circles on her back and gently shushed her. How she felt the absence of her mother, who was away in Kent, visiting her sister in law. As she thought this, she felt like she had been doused in cold water as realization struck: there was nobody here to help her Father regain his mental equilibrium. Robert was God knows where, Richard was on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic and her mother was in Kent. That left her, a fifteen year old girl, to comfort a grown man of over forty. But, she was not going to let that stop her, was she?

Determined to be of use to her father, she raised her head, wiped her tears and picked up the letter. Darcy's language was precise and orderly but she knew he was going to pieces. The ink was smudged in places and some words looked like his hand was shaking when he wrote it. She could see him in her mind's eye, sitting rigidly at his desk, penning a missive to her father, drowning himself in responsibilities and locking away his pain. How similar was he, to her own father. Both not unlike lions in character, protecting their loved ones at any cost to themselves but always retreating to lick their wounds in private, refusing to let anyone share their burden. He needed her too, she concluded. Richard, the closest thing he had to a brother, was a twenty day voyage away from England, her father was drowning in his grief and Georgiana needed comfort too much to be able to provide any solace to Fitze. It was up to her now, till her mother reached Pemberley, to hold the family together and God willing, she would certainly do it. With this resolve in her heart, she got up with Mrs. Harrison's help and after embracing the old woman in thanks, entered the study.

Her father was staring at the ceiling, his head thrown back on his chair, a glass of brandy in his hand. He gave no sign of registering her entrance. She allowed him his peace for a moment more and then spoke up resolutely, 'I want to come with you to Pemberley, Father.'

He did not respond.

'I want to come with you to Pemberley, Father.'

He stirred and muttered something.

'Father..'

'Call Burton, I said,' he fairly shouted.

Alina shrank back, then after glaring reprovingly at her father, for gentlemen were not supposed to shout at ladies, straightened her shoulders and hurried out to do her father's bidding.

* * *

Alina snuck out of the house and ran towards the stables. She needed to talk to Jason.

A few minutes later, some pebbles and a bit of gravel made their presence felt against the glass of Jason's window. The boy in question stuck his head out of the window and nearly fell out when he saw Alina smirking at him.

'What in heaven's name are you doing here, you madwoman?'

'Look after the tenant children, won't you? I'm going to Pemberley. It might be a fortnight before I come back.'

'Dear Lord, couldn't you have sent a note?' He rested his head against the wall. This girl was going to be the death of him someday.

'What fun would that be?' Still smirking, she turned her horse and galloped back to Milton.

* * *

Splitting it here, Sorry folks.

Don't forget to review, they force me to update.

Thank you for reading :D


	10. A place called Pemberley

Chapter Ten

A/N: Bit miffed that over a hundred people read the last chapter and only two reviewed. Well, anyway, a big thank you to EnglishLitLover and Guest for reviewing :) You guys made my day!

Guest: Thank you :) I'd never considered that frankly and your review made me realize that about the chapter. Hope for more reviews from you :D

Englitlover: You had me at What a great story. Thank you sooo much :D

Without further ado, the tenth chapter, dedicated to my godfather :)

* * *

The wind whistled through her dark hair, making it come undone from the half hearted bun she's twisted it into this morning, whipping strands of it across her face so harshly that she felt like she was being slapped repeatedly as she rode her horse through the fields of Lambton, completing the last leg of her journey on horseback.

Beside her was her father who sat tall and straight on his horse, a bit travel worn but resembling a dashing medieval Knight from the historical stories she was ever so fond of reading.

Sadly, she could not say the same for herself. Two days of back breaking, non-stop travel had caused her to bear an unfortunate resemblance to a tramp in appearance and dear old Aunt Cathy in temper. She had hardly slept, her father could barely be persuaded to stop for food, forget actually stopping at an inn to sleep at night. The little rest she'd had, she had it by curling up on the seat of the carriage on the first night and leaning against her father's chest as he rode through the second night, leaving no stone unturned in his quest to reach Pemberley as soon as possible.

Though it was barely past six, the sky was as dark as an ink blot, the stars and the moon already visible. There he was, her Uncle George, twinkling at her from his new home in the night sky.

It reminded her of the few times she had gone star gazing with Michelle, both of them sprawled on their backs in the soft, warm grass, watching the beautiful night sky littered with stars like God had simply thrown them onto the sky like one threw crumbs to a pigeon. Michelle had said that whenever somebody they loved died, God made them a star so they could shine and smile at you from above. She was too old now to believe in such a fancy but she liked thinking that Uncle George could see her from wherever he was now, wherever it was that people went after death.

Her father's voice brought her contemplations to a halt.

'We're here,'he said shortly, looking distastefully at the small, round hill that marked the entrance to the vast grounds of Pemberley. He had never been fond of Pemberley she knew, it reminded him too much of his sister's death. Here, he could never pretend that Auntie Annie (as her five year old self had fondly named her Aunt and godmother) was alive and well.

They rode up and over the hill and soon the grand house came into view and Alina was transfixed by it yet again. Though Milton Hall was one of the largest private homes in England, in her eyes it could not hold a candle to Pemberley's beauty. It was majestic, this old house, built back in the 1100's when the Darcy's were D'Arcy's and the great great grandfather of her father, the most famous Fitzwilliam of them all had not even been born.

There was something about Pemberley, something in its arches, it's walls, something in the creepers that twined over window sills that made her feel immensely happy to be there. She felt like Odysseus, away from home for twenty year and then coming back home to her Ithaca, Pemberley.

The driveway was lit with lanterns and she could see a darker blob in the shadow cast by the house that was their welcoming party. She felt self conscious for a minute for she was definitely not fit to be seen. If Aunt Catherine could see her now, she would declare Alina a runaway gypsy and have her carted off to Dartmoor. Tucking flyaway strands of hair behind her ears, she squinted into the darkness, trying to see the people who had braved the cold night wind to receive them. She could not discern much, except the tall form of her cousin with the smaller figure of Georgiana nestled into his side.

A minute later, they slid to a stop at the end of the drive and perilously close to the front door, the horses tired and panting from their long and arduous journey.

As soon as the horses settled, Georgiana was running towards her, her tear stained face thrown into sharp relief by the light of a torch nearby. Her father had already dismounted and was striding purposefully towards his cousin who met him halfway. After clasping his shoulder and muttering a few words to him, Lord Milton proceeded towards the house as Darcy stared after him with a stoic face.

Her reverie was broken by someone tugging on her skirts and she looked down to see Georgiana gazing up at her, with large tear filled eyes.

'Allie', she said, turning her name into a plea for comfort and then tugging again on her skirt for emphasis. Alina directed a watery smile in her direction as she said, 'I'm here, darling' and tried to dismount. But try as she might, she could not get her stiff and numb legs to move and dismount from the house. Just as she was about to call out to one of the footmen in frustration, she felt the large, warm hands of her cousin on her waist as he smoothly lifted her out of the saddle and deposited her on the ground where she tottered unsteadily for a moment on her uncooperative feet and then collapsed in a undignified heap on the driveway.

But Georgiana was undeterred by her sudden fall and threw her arms around Alina, sobbing piteously into her shoulder. Closing her eyes in an attempt to stem the tears flowing from her own eyes, she embraced Georgiana tightly and let her young cousin sob her heart out in the shelter of her arms, with Darcy standing sentinel-like over them, his hands clasped behind his back.

* * *

Georgiana had sobbed in her arms for the better part of an half hour and now, refused to let go of her cousin as they entered the house. She had locked her spindly legs around Alina's waist, her arms around her neck and Alina was sure that she would have fallen on her face, were it not for Cousin Darcy's arm around her, so weak were her legs from a day's unrelenting travel on horseback.

She tottered up the steps to the first floor, stopping frequently to catch her breath as they made their way to Georgiana's chamber. Fitz tried to take Georgiana out of her arms a couple of times but the little girl shook her head resolutely and refused to let go. She gave him one of her famous looks, wordlessly saying that she could manage it and Darcy nodded his assent, his shoulders taut with tension.

After a few painful minutes, they reached Georgiana's chamber and Alina thanked the Lord fervently as they entered the cavernous chamber. However, depositing Georgiana on the bed proved to be a hard task as she held on to Alina stubbornly and refused to be put down so, Alina settled for sitting on the bed, Georgiana perched awkwardly on her lap.

Darcy stood at the door, wringing his hands nervously, his eyes flitting from one end of the room to the other, as if he was searching for words to voice his feelings in the dusty corners of Georgiana's bedroom.

'I'll be on my way then,'he said finally, not meeting her eyes. Then, turning on his heel, he exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Sighing, Alina turned her attention to the little girl in her arms and softly began to sing a nursery rhyme she had read recently in Rhymes for the nursery by Jane Taylor.

It was:

 _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star_

 _How I wonder what you are_

 _Up above the world so high_

 _Like a diamond in the sky_

She sang this stanza repeatedly, disregarding her dry throat that begged for water, her stomach that growled for sustenance, her limbs that ached for rest and her body that was dying for a bath. She sang until Georgie's sniffles turned into delicate snores and her body slumped against her, her consciousness traversing a distant shore in the land of dreams.

Gently, she disengaged Georgiana's limbs from around her torso and laid her on the bed where she rolled over and settled into sleep, her hands tucked under her chin. Pulling the covers over her, she rose from the bed just as there was a quiet knock on the door. Cousin Darcy peeked from behind the now partially open door and motioned her to come out. She did so, her legs aching and protesting with every step she took in his direction.

At last, she stood in front of him, a tired, sweaty mess with tear tracks on her dirty face but Darcy had never seen anything lovelier. He embraced her then, his hands trembling as they settled around her waist.

'I thank you', he chanted over and over into her filthy hair and she brought her arms around him, embracing him in return.

After many minutes, they broke apart and Alina wiped at her eyes uselessly, making her face dirtier but her Cousin still looked at her like she was one of the angels on the ceiling of Sistine Chapel.

'There's a bath for you in the adjacent room and one of the maids will bring you food when you are finished',he said quietly. 'As I had no idea that you would be accompanying Uncle Damien, your chamber has not been prepared but I could, of course, get a room in the guest wing-'

'I can sleep in Georgiana's room', she interrupted tiredly. 'She might appreciate my company if she wakes up in the night.'

Darcy agreed gratefully and held open the door to the room that held her bath.

* * *

An hour later, bathed, fed and clothed in clean clothes for the first time in two days, Alina collapsed on to the bed and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Alina opened her eyes to darkness. Blinking furiously, her eyes adjusted to the muted sunlight in the room and she sprang up from the bed, feeling more rested than she had in weeks.

Slipping a dressing gown over her shoulders and drawing it around herself, she stepped out of the bedchamber quietly so as to not wake Georgiana, who was still asleep in bed.

Asking a passing footman the time, she nearly fainted in shock when she learnt that it was nearly four in the evening. She had slept for more than twelve hours, slept through the funeral and the wake, both of which incidentally, she was not allowed to attend, the mourners had come and gone and she had not even stirred.

Shaking her head at her laziness, she hurried into the room, ringing the bell for the maid to bring her breakfast and assist her in getting dressed.

* * *

Alina roamed the gardens, shading her eyes against the sun, staring into the distance, searching for her father and Cousin Darcy, both of whom were missing from the house.

She found Cousin Darcy first. He was sitting on the grass, knees drawn up to his chest and flicking pebbles into the water with such violence that it caused her to wonder if the lake had wronged him somehow. He looked beyond angry, he was positively furious as he threw pebbles into the lake, glaring at it hatefully like it was responsible for all the sorrows in his life. He muttered angrily as he threw the pebbles.

'You took my mother from me.'

A pebble splashed into the lake.

'My father was never the same after that.'

Another splashed into the lake.

'He, he..never talked to me properly after that.'

Here went another, thrown with such violence that the ripples reached the edge of the lake.

'You took away our only parent.'

Alina was positive that he had thrown a stone this time, so large was the splash in the water.

'You left me alone to bring up Georgiana. I cannot be her father.'

This time it was a shower of pebbles that hit the lake and Darcy buried his head in his hands, his body shaking like a leaf.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she approached his trembling form and tentatively lay a hand on his back. He shook it off almost immediately.

'Leave me to my solitude', he shouted, his voice muffled by his hand.

'Fitz please', she tried to reason.

'No, no, no,' he chanted. 'I will not be another item on your list of good deeds to seem a good little girl to everybody.'

He looked up at her then, his glare putting Medusa to shame.

'Yesterday, I helped Sarah the maid,' he mocked, his voice a high falsetto, 'Today, I comforted my poor cousin Darcy who just buried his father. He spoiled my favorite gown with his tears, the idiot.'

Her nerves were already frayed from the emotional upheavals in the last three days and Cousin Darcy implying that her kindness was a mere front that she presented to the world was the last straw. Without thinking and more than a little hurt and angry, she scooped up some lake water in her hands and threw it at Cousin Darcy's face.

He froze mid-speech, his hair plastered to his forehead, his mouth gaping like a goldfish.

'I..I apologize, Cousin', she said mortified, holding a hand over her mouth. 'It seems I have lost my mind.'

Darcy burst out laughing at that, his crazy, manical laughter scaring her and then his hysterical laughter soon gave way to loud, gut wrenching sobs.

She fell to her knees in front of him and this time it was he who sought the shelter of her arms, unlike the Christmas two years prior when it was Alina who had run to him for comfort and then there they both Sat, Darcy wrapped in the arms of his cousin, as the sun sank over the lake, turning the entire sky gold.

* * *

Damien Fitzwilliam watched his nephew throw his arms around his young daughter and then sob brokenly into her little shoulder. There she was, his little, wild and improper Alina-Marie, bravely shouldering another one of his burdens and doing it in the most improper way possible.

While he knew how a grieving person craved the physical comfort of a loved one's arms, he was not too happy with the extremely familiar manner in which Darcy embraced Alina. It reminded him too much of the way he held Alexandra when memories of Anne overwhelmed his mind.

He felt like a voyeur, watching the two of them. It was an intensely private moment. A hurt, grieving man going to pieces in the arms of a woman he loved while she held him and kept him from breaking completely. Darcy, crying like a child, his eyes red and puffy, while she stroked his back, his hair, his face and murmured words of comfort into his ear. He averted his eyes when Alina pressed her lips to Darcy's forehead in a gentle kiss. Had George been right then? Would he be giving away Alina to Darcy one day? Shaking his head to clear it of these treacherous thoughts, he turned his back on the duo and made his way to the family graveyard. He had a couple of things to discuss with Anne.

THE END

OF CHAPTER TEN, SILLY :)

* * *

 **1/4/16 IN CASE YOU'RE WONDERING WHAT THE HELL DID I UPDATE, I ADDED EXTRA SCENES IN CHAPTER TWO. CHECK THEM OUT!**

Heyyy guys

Cannot believe it's been ten chapters already. Thank you so much for your kind love and support. You read my story, favorited/followed it, you posted such encouraging reviews. Thank you :) Really, for me, it's no fun to write if you don't read. And this darn pixie Alina, I think okay this is how this will happen but Alina takes it in a whole new direction. I love her!

And I hope you enjoyed this chapter because I certainly enjoyed writing it. My hand refused to stop writing until I finished this chapter. Feedback, grammatical corrections are most welcome and appreciated. And if I have used any phrase/word that would not be used in regency era, do mention it in your review :)

Loads of love,

Mango

P.S. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star was published in 1806 under the heading the Star in Jane Taylor's book, Rhymes for the nursery.


	11. Cousins or something more?

**Chapter Eleven**

After two hoax chapter, I present to you the REAL eleventh chapter ;) If you didn't read the chapters, they were missing Scenes of chapters 2,3,4,5,6,8,9. They have now been added to the chapters. Also response to all your reviews have also been added to the succeeding chapters.

Thank you Captain Americanna, Making marauder mischief, Pollita-crr/Cynthia :), susanvegas, Englitlover, coffeebookchiller, team. , Megzy, LovePP, cuinwen, Guest, purple sky always for reviewing! Your reviews mean a lot.

And a big thank you to everyone following/reading this story as well. Thank you :D

* * *

Pemberley

Derbyshire

23rd September 1806 (A week after the funeral)

Alina woke up in a cold sweat, her heart beating rapidly out of fear, beads of perspiration covering her forehead. Trembling with fright, she gazed around the guestroom seeking the slightest bit of illumination to give her comfort but her eyes could see nothing: the fire had long been extinguished and it was a new moon night so the room was cloaked in deep impertnable darkness that seemed to solidify the longer she looked at it. The room seemed to be closing in on her.

Scared out of her wits, she rose from the bed on shaky legs and stumbled her way to the door. It took her some time but she finally managed to locate the door. Pulling at the doorknob, she threw the door open with a loud bang and ran out of the room like the devil himself was on her heels. The hallways were dark and offered her no comfort: the shadows seemed to leaping out at her. Desperate to get out of the old house, she ran down the grand staircase and out of the front door which she, in her fright, failed to notice was already unlocked.

Falling to her knees near the lake, sorely out of breath, she gazed up at the grand, majestic mansion that was Pemberley. It no longer seemed Ithaca to her. It was no longer beautiful. It looked like an old, abandoned moorland mansion, filled with the misery and despair of the ghosts that haunted it. It was not only the house, everything about the night seemed sinister to her: the moonless cloudy sky, the silent whispers of the wind, the absence of the sounds of any living being around her sent shiver of terror down her spine. It was a result of the poor sleep she'd had this past sennight, a sleep filled with nightmares so horrific that caused her to bury her head in her pillow to keep from screaming and she was afraid of going to bed, terrified of the horrors that awaited her if she succumbed to fatigue. She was recalled to her surroundings by a heavy hand on her shoulders and irrationally concluding that her nightmare of the dead rising from the graves had come true, she was about to scream at the top of her voice when Cousin Darcy's confused voice stopped her: he had moved to stand before her, his tall form rather imposing in the darkness. Seeing him, she exhaled in relief and clutched the cross at her neck tightly.

He gazed at her worriedly, she was shaking like a leaf in the wind, her face pale and drained of color, her hand clutching the cross at her neck desperately. 'What is it, Allie? What has you so frightened?'

'The nightmares won't stop', she cried, tired of the dreams. 'They come again every night.' It was too much for her, the fear, the agony, the ominous certainity that the dreams would be there every time she closed her eyes. She burst into tears, how she wanted the dreams to stop.

Darcy wordlessly picked her up gently in his arms, his expression grim and carried her towards the house as she sobbed into his chest.

'Where are we going?' She was frightened: her cousin had passed the house and they were heading towards the wild grounds. 'Where are we going Darce?', she repeated, her voice rising hysterically.

He looked down at her, his eyes kind and his tone reassuring as he answered quietly, 'We're going to the family chapel. It is a quarter hour away.'

She felt her heart swell with affection for him at his consideration for her well-being, he had barely slept the past week for he had been ensconced in his study with her father from morning to midnight, looking after estate matters and Uncle George's will and he had to be up early the next morn yet here he was, taking her to the family chapel when he could have just escorted her to her chamber and left after offering a few empty words of comfort. Darcy was truly the kindest, most generous and selfless man she knew. 'Put me down then, I refuse you to be carried like a damsel in distress', she replied, crossing her arms and making a brave attempt at a cocky smile.

Darcy set her down on the dry ground gently and extended his hand towards her. 'Would you be averse to my assistance as well?'

She considered refusing his offer for she was very well capable of walking without a gentleman to support her but then remembering the shaky legs that had impeded her escape from the house, quietly clasped his outstretched hand and followed him over the overgrown path to the chapel.

The walked in silence, her thin, cold hand enclosed in Fitz's warm one. He walked confidently, undeterred by the darkness around them, moving the branches out of their way and helping her bone-tired self over the rocky parts: she would've twisted her ankle thrice if not for his quick reflexes. After three quarters of an hour, they stopped to catch their breath at the foot of the hill the chapel was located on.

'Almost there', Darcy panted, his hands on his knees. 'Won't take long now.'

She was sitting on the ground, resting her aching feet and couldn't muster the energy to contribute any words of wisdom to their one sided conversation. They rested for a quarter hour and then resumed the arduous trek to the Pemberley chapel. It was silhouetted against the night sky: a tall, proud building that entombed only vestiges of its former glory. It had fallen into disrepair after the construction of a church in Lambton and the village people started attending church there. But to her, it was beautiful.

'Father and Mother were married here', he said quietly as they approached the door. 'He never came here after her death.'

She pressed his hand gently to indicate her solidarity, too out of breath to speak. They entered the chapel then, it was quite small with five benches on either side of the aisle, its stained glass windows dark and skylight showing the inky sky, the stone floor surprisingly clean for a building that had been abandoned for ten years. At her questioning look, Darcy explained, his cheeks flushed, 'Whenever I...suffer from some inner turmoil..or seek peace of mind, I come here and clean it..'

'Thank you for sharing your sanctuary with me', she said softly.

Darcy smiled wryly in response. 'Tis not mine Alina, it is always open for those who seek it but no one ever does. You can sit on any of the benches, I will light the candles.'

He went off then, removing her hand from his, walking sedately towards the altar and soon the chapel was illuminated, the candles flickering merrily, throwing shadows on the stone walls.

She moved towards him and they both sat on one of the benches, Darcy's arm around her, her head resting on his shoulder as he sang hymns of gratitude, forgiveness, deliverance and salvation softly and Alina was asleep within a half hour. Smiling, he lay his head against the pleasantly cold stone wall and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

24th September 1806

Alina awoke to a vision of beauty: the sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, illuminating the chapel in various hues and the building radiated such love and warmth that it warmed her to the core. It was the first time in days that she'd had a peaceful, dreamless sleep. She looked to her right to see Cousin Darcy slumped against the wall, snoring gently, his face illuminated beautifully by the muted sunlight. He looked like an angel, her angel and she felt a strong rush of affection for him. She shook him awake gently and he looked blearily at her and then promptly tumbled to the floor. She couldn't contain her amusement and giggled meekly.

He got up from the floor slowly and dusted off his clothes. 'You can titter prettily Allie but your father is going to run me through with a sword as soon I put a foot over the threshold.'

She looked at him scornfully. 'We visited the chapel, that is not a sin.'

'Yes, but I shouldn't have brought you alone here. It is improper and people will talk.'

'People can be lied to, can't they? We'll tell everyone that we came here at dawn.'

Darcy looked like he was going to protest so she interrupted him. 'It's this or Father's sword, Darce.' He nodded his reluctant assent. 'You need not look so tortured, I will tell him once we're alone.'

* * *

Later that day

Pemberley Conservatory

Derbyshire

24th September 1806

Alina, Darcy and Georgiana were sprawled rather inelegantly on the rug covered floor of the Conservatory. Darcy was lying on his side, snoring quietly and Georgiana was nestled close to Alina, her head on Alina's shoulder. Alina stroked her hair absent mindedly, staring at the moonless night sky.

'Allie', said Georgiana quietly. 'You're not going to leave tomorrow, are you?'

Alina stiffened. She and Darcy had had a rather passionate argument in which he'd tried to convince her to leave for Milton Hall with her mother because apparently Lady Milton-famed for her impeccably organized balls in the ton-needed her assistance in setting up a chamber for Richard. What a bag of moonshine! She knew he was worried that she wasn't well at Pemberley after last night but she was perfectly fine now. She'd refused to leave and then he'd brought Richard into it, accusing her of not caring for her injured brother. He was fortunate that they had not been in the library or she would have lobbed a heavy tome about proper behavior on his head. Richard was a fortnight away from Portsmouth and if she went to Milton with her mother, she would truly lose her mind worrying about Richard all the time for there was nothing to do at Milton. At least at Pemberley she could make herself useful. And Georgiana's company was certainly an added inducement to remain at Pemberley: playing with her young cousin made her forget about all her worries. She had half a mind to take Georgiana to Milton with her when she left with her father.

'No', she answered sourly, glaring at Darcy's snoring form. 'Despite your brother's best efforts, I will not be persuaded to abandon my fort.'

Georgiana smiled contentedly and snuggled up to Alina. Within a few minutes, she was asleep.

'You can stop pretending to be asleep now', she said, sticking her nose in the air haughtily. 'What a poor actor you'd make, if you think your horrendous impression of an elephant will fool me into believing that you were in the domain of Hypnos.'

Darcy rolled over to face her, smiling sheepishly. 'I apologize Allie', he said contritely. 'I was terribly rude and unkind to you. I beg your pardon.'

'Hmmph', she huffed, not placated in the least. 'If you persist in talking to women like they have no measure of self respect, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and you will find yourself an old, frustrated and unwilling bachelor!'

'Please Allie', he begged, making calf eyes at her.

'Dear Lord in heaven,' she exclaimed, shuddering. 'Do not make that face at me. You looked like you belonged in bedlam.'

Darcy's face fell. He did not like his most charming expression as one young shop girl in Cambridge had blushingly described it, be compared to a madman's countenance.

Alina shook with silent laughter at his petulant expression. 'You're no better than a miffed boy of seven.'

'What will it take for you to forgive me?'

Alina's lips turned up in a devious smile.

'Hmm,' she said, a long finger tapping her chin. 'Ten dolls and ten toy horses.'

To say Darcy was flabbergasted was an understatement. 'Ten Dolls and ten toy horses?', he repeated, incredulously. 'You are two years away from being presented at court and you want to play with toys?!'

'You are extremely foolish', she said, disdainfully. 'They are not for me, they are for my friends.'

'Friends?'

'Yes, my army of mischief makers comprising of myself, Jason and twenty tenant children.'

'You've involved that poor boy in your eccentric activities?'

Alina narrowed her eyes. 'You will keep quiet, Fitzwilliam Darcy, otherwise I shall tell Father who stole his precious claret all those years ago.'

Darcy slumped his shoulders in defeat. 'I'll send the ransom after you.'

'I beg your pardon, cousin', she said, her eyes glinting dangerously.

'Uh..I said gifts. I'll send the gifts after you. Ten Dolls and ten toy horses from the finest toy maker in London,' he said, smiling appeasingly.

'You are too kind, Fitz.'

'Too stupid is more apt', he said sourly under his breath.

'I agree', she said happily, her eyes dancing with mirth.

'I am forgiven then?'

'You are forgiven',she agreed.

They both couldn't stop their lips from turning up in identical, silly grins. They enjoyed this immensely.

Georgiana hid her satisfied smile in the folds of Alina's dress. A minute later, no one could say that she had been awake the whole time, so peaceful and convincing was her countenance. There was a Darcy who would be acceptable on stage, it just wasn't Fitzwilliam.

* * *

25th September 1806

Alina was walking quickly to the music room. Georgie was waiting for her with some simple pieces of music and she would not be pleased if Alina was late to her music lesson. Georgiana was a terribly strict teacher and was determined that Alina be able to play something passably well before she left for Milton. Alina was not suffering from the same delusion. It was just as likely as Aunt Cathy liking her mother and her, in other words, not likely at all.

She was about to start running when a door opened to her left and Cousin Darcy stumbled out and collided with her, sending both of them tumbling to the floor. She banged her head rather hard against a table and sat against the wall dazed. She finally understood what Richard had been talking about when he said that a facer could sometimes make you see stars. She was definitely seeing some stars.

'Allie...Are you alright?'

Someone was shaking her shoulders and she blinked her eyes furiously and slowly Cousin Darcy's worried face came into focus.

'Are you hurt?', he asked, worriedly.

'I don't...it does not hurt..much.'

'I am terribly sorry Allie but I need your help,' the look of Darcy's face bespoke the strain he was under. 'I need you to destroy this. Fling it into the fire and make sure not a piece survives.'

He handed her a thin bundle of letters.

'Please do it as fast as possible and...do not tell anyone. Please.'

She nodded her head in assent, wincing inwardly as her head throbbed painfully. He helped her up and then after reassuring himself about her well being, he went down the corridor and Alina entered his study to do the needful.

* * *

Her fingers ghosted over the keys of Georgiana's pianoforte. Georgie had been furious with her after she was an hour late to her lesson and had retired to her room in a huff.

Sighing to herself, she started playing the song her Aunt Anne had taught her. It had been a simple nursery rhyme yet it never failed to calm her whenever she found her mind or heart in turmoil. She played it repeatedly, remembering her Aunt who had been a loving, kind and gentle lady. She had been the best music teacher she'd ever had. Learning music had never come easily after Auntie Anne's passing. Smiling sadly to herself, she finished the song and got up from the piano bench to see Mrs. Reynolds standing in the doorway, her eyes overflowing with tears.

'She used to play it', said the older lady in a thick voice,'The mistress. Whenever the young master couldn't sleep, she would bring him here and then play it until he fell asleep...How I wish she was here. He needs her, the young master.

The old lady started sobbing then and Alina couldn't of anything to comfort her so she threw her arms around her and embraced her. The old lady's sobs stopped almost immediately and she drew back, shocked into speechlessness.

'He is not alone', said Alina quietly, her cheeks flushed a little from embarrassment. She should really refrain from embracing random people. 'He has you, Mrs. Reynolds. He...respects you and looks to you for guidance. You must not be weak for you are his pillar of strength.'

The old lady nodded resolutely and after curtseying to Alina left the room.

* * *

She was in the garden, picking flowers for weaving a crown to appease Georgie when she saw her father stride towards her, his mouth disfigured by a nasty scowl.

Oh dear! Had Mrs. Reynolds complained about her to her father? She really should have refrained from embracing the old woman.

'What are you doing here, out of the house at this hour?', he asked mulishly, kicking a pebble in his path.

'I am making a crown of flowers for Georgiana,' she answered, clutching the flowers tightly.

'Hmmftt', he said distractedly. She wasn't even sure if he had heard her. 'I suppose I shall have to settle for your company since your mother is halfway back to Milton by now.'

'I'll be glad to help, Father', she replied, confused by his words.

He flopped down on to the grass and looked up at her, shading his eyes against the setting sun.

'You are happy?', he asked softly. 'Happy at Milton?'

'Yes, Father', she replied, lost.

'Good.'

He did not speak for several minutes after that. She was about to leave for the house when he broke the silence.

'Your cousin is a very good man.'

'I am aware, father.'

'Though he has no appreciation for my skills. He insisted on dealing with that rake, Wickham, on his own-'

'Who is Wickham, father?

'George's godson. A nasty fellow. You are never to talk to him or even acknowledge him if he approaches you. He is one of the bad lot.' She nodded though she did not know how she was supposed to recognize Wickham having never seen him in her life. 'I do wish Darcy had consented to my presence in the meeting with Wickham. I am afraid that crook may take unfair advantage of Darcy's honorable nature. But, I must let you lot make your own mistakes. I cannot shield you forever...how much ever I may want to..'

She kept quiet.

* * *

Darcy rubbed his eyes tiredly. The negotiation with Wickham had been both physically and emotionally exhausting. Wickham had taunted him, made fun of him and he had been forced to bear it out of respect for his father.

Though he hated the idea of Wickham being responsible for the spiritual well being of an entire congregation, he had been forced to offer him the living at Krympton as decreed in his father's will. Thankfully, Wickham had declined and instead asked for monetary compensation of seven thousand pounds which he intended to use for studying law. Codswallop.

After much haggling which caused him to feel like a fish woman, he had gotten rid of Wickham, the Darcy coffers now three thousand pounds lighter. Wickham had wanted to stay at Pemberley but Darcy didn't want him anywhere near Alina and Georgiana so he arranged rooms for him at the inn at Lambton and lent him one of his horses to travel there. Wickham had promised to never bother him again but Darcy knew, from the sinking feeling in his heart, that he would see him again, sooner or later and he dreaded it.

* * *

Milton Hall

Cambridgeshire

18th October 1806

Damien Fitzwilliam looked like he was going to burst a vein. He crushed the paper in his hand and lobbed it out of the window.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Alina picked up the paper and gently smoothed out the creases. It was a letter from the Latin Americas penned in a neat, unfamiliar hand. She searched for the signature, it was a Colonel Brandon. The same man who had saved Richard's life. Apparently, Richard Fitzwilliam had refused to come home.

* * *

Thank you for reading :D Okay, don't expect 3k+ chapters every time okay? I don't know how this became so long and REVIEW! Please review, I would love to hear your thoughts!

Yes, Colonel Brandon of Sense and Sensibility fame. I thought someone would notice in the 9th chapter.

Timeline (thanks to team. )

1782:Richard is born

1784: Darcy is born

1785: Niklaus Wentworth is born.

1791: Alina is born at Milton Hall.

1792: Elizabeth Bennet, born at Longbourn. (Spoiler: Ahem, the meeting with Elizabeth approaches)

1795: Anne comes to Matlock.

1796: Georgiana is born. Anne dies. Richard is 14, Darcy 12, Alina 5.

1804:

September-Richard joins the army. Alina-13.

December-The midnight Escapade with Aunt Catherine. Darcy comforts his cousin. Richard tries not to kill Aunt Catherine.

1805: February, Miss Pembrooke tries to compromise Robert. Alina has a field day protecting his honour. Robert makes up with Alina. Alina-14. Darcy and Niklaus' last year at Cambridge.

1806-George Darcy dies. Alina is 15, Darcy is 22 and Georgiana is ten. Niklaus comes of age.

* * *

Response to Reviews

Chapter Ten

Captain Americanna: You are soooo sweet! Thank you so much for your lovely reviews. I hope you had loads of fun in Tennessee.

makingmaraudermischief: Thank you for both reviews :D They were awesome! Sorry for the The End comment ;) I loved hearing your thoughts about the story. It's so nice to see you're having fun reading it.

Susanvegas: Thank you so much :D I am so happy that you're enjoying it!

Englitlover: Thank you for reviewing. I'm wondering too. Alina's playing ping pong in my head when it comes to Darcy.

Coffeebookchiller: I think you're the first person to ship Darcy/Alina IF it happens. Thank you for your incredibly sweet review!

Team. - Thank you for making me realize that a timeline was needed. I was as confused as you guys before I made myself a timeline. Sharing the same with you.

And two years have passed since the beginning of the story..so Alina's bound to become more sensible. And she's always been wise for her age. Thanks for your review!

Megzy: Thank you for your wishes and your review. How was Easter for you? You know I wrote like three drafts of this chapter and it wasn't working so I was tempted to skip..but it was your review that stopped me :)

LovePP: Thank you! I'm so happy you're enjoying the story. You are very kind.

Cuinwen: Thank you for your feedback :) It is really appreciated! Looking forward to hearing from you.

Pollita-crr: Thank you Cynthia :D You are so nice :)

Guest: Thank you so much. I'm so happy you guys like Alina.

Purple sky always: Thank you :) Maybe Lizzie won't be alone ;)


	12. Young Love

**Chapter Twelve**

A/N: A big thank you to Captain Americanna, Guest, EngLitLover, Guest and coffeebookchiller :)

This chapter is for the guest who reviewed chapter 11 :) Because Darcy is not Alina's first crush. Aaand, the bundle of letters will come back to haunt Fitzwilliam in some years. Wait and watch my friend.

* * *

Fitzwilliam House

London

28th January 1807

Alina stood mutinously outside the door to her father's study. She had been dismissed most cruelly from the room in question, her reasonable request unfairly denied by unfeeling father. She had all but begged her father to take her to see Fredrick Windsor's demonstration of using gas lighting to illuminate London's streets that was to take place at Pall Mall that day after sunset but he had refused and no amount of cajoling could persuade him to change his mind.

Had it been anything else, she would've conceded defeat and retired to her room but she could not accept her father's illogical dismissal of her request to see the latest scientific marvel to hit England. One of Sarah's brothers who worked for a manufactory in Birmingham had seen Josiah Pemberton's demonstration of the same two years ago at his workplace and he had been fascinated to no end by whatever he'd seen. 'Magnificent', 'Breath-takingly intelligent', 'A prime example of scientific ingenuity' were some of the words he had used to describe the experience and that had fuelled Alina's desire to see this miracle with her own eyes. To see lamps being lit with air instead of oil, how wonderful would that be. It was so fantastical that she couldn't even imagine it.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered the courage to ask her irate father again and she was just about to knock on the study door when she saw Lord Wentworth make his way down the corridor towards her. He was the same as he had been when she had seen him last two years ago: tall, lanky and Raven haired but he walked with a new confidence now that he had passed his examinations with flying colors and excelled in the extra curriculars at Cambridge. The ton was abuzz with the news of Lord Wentworth's supreme eligibility for the position of one's husband and all the single ladies of wealth, real and supposed, were clamouring for an introduction. He had suddenly become London's most eligible bachelor, usurping even Cousin Darcy who had been a favorite of the Society Mammas and their daughters since the day he turned one and twenty.

She cast an appraising glance his way and was not displeased by what she saw. He was certainly handsome but to describe him as a heart stealer was perhaps overestimating his charms a bit too much. She still remembered the day, he, a red faced schoolboy from Eton, home for the holidays had fallen into one of the ponds at Milton and claimed that he was drowning when his feet could clearly touch the bottom. Her recollections were interrupted as he stopped to stand beside her.

'You're remembering my rather fine dive into that pond of yours, aren't you?', he said, smiling in resignation as he bowed to her.

'What else could make me so happy?', she shot back pertly as she curtsied.

'My misfortune has never failed to amuse you, you heartless girl', he said, placing a hand on his heart.

'Your stupidity is exceedingly diverting, Lord Wentworth', she replied primly, trying not to smile.

'Ah! Fair maiden, you shall not be immune to my charms for long', he proclaimed in jest. 'All the young misses of London are half in love with me now.'

'Poor blind girls', she pretended to wipe her eyes.

'They have been blinded by my brilliance, my magnificence, my beauty-'

'I've never met such a modest and humble man such as yourself', she commented, checking her shoes for dust.

He grinned at her. 'With our friendly banter out of the way, how are you faring Miss Allie?'

She had refused to answer if he called her Lady Alina, it made her feel too old and besides he was a friend so dear that he was almost family.

'Sir Niklaus, my father has most cruelly refused to take me to Pall-Mall tonight,' she answered, . 'Could you come to my rescue?'

She had insisted on being included in their games of battle when she had been a young girl and his name had been Sir Niklaus ever since.

'I'm taking my cousin: Lady Susan and her friend Miss Elbert to see the gas lights and since there are only three of us in a carriage that seats more, we could always accommodate a Miss Allie'. His blue eyes twinkled with good humour.

The smile on Alina's face was dazzling in its beauty. 'You are a true friend, Sir Niklaus. Now go and ask my father.'

* * *

Alina strode into her sitting room, simultaneously ripping the fine pelisse off her shoulders violently and threw it in the corner with such force that the vase fell off the corner table and shattered. Still dissatisfied, she picked an elaborately embroidered cushion from the armchair in front of the fireplace and threw it at the door. Breathing heavily, she collapsed onto the sofa, her arms braced on either side of her torso, holding her up.

It had been an absolutely horrible evening. It had had a promising start, Niklaus, remembering her fondness for good Literature, had taken her to Dodsley, London's most famous bookshop and that unprincipled Lady Susan and her sycophantic friend Miss Elbert had stopped to look at a man selling silk fans from the East on the street, so they were alone with only Sarah to keep them company and she had a special talent of blending in with the furniture whenever she was not wanted.

They had spent a half hour in the bookshop: arguing, discussing and debating and it was pleasing to discover that Niklaus didn't consider her to be a social leper on the basis of her intelligence and a desire to learn like Aunt Catherine had said she would be treated by men if she persisted in this 'shocking blue stocking behavior'. His eyes had shone with amusement when she ventured to contradict his opinion on some of the treasures that lined Dodsley's walls and he had listened to her, not dismissed her opinion as the 'nonsensical mumblings of a schoolgirl' as some men were prone to do and even complimented her on her thorough knowledge of the Bard's works.

She had enjoyed herself immensely and her heart had beat faster than a hummingbird's wings when his arm had brushed hers as he made to remove a book from a shelf near her. She was no stranger to physical contact: she loved embracing her family, loved the warmth and peace that filled her heart when she was in a loved one's arms but this, this was different. Her arm had tingled most pleasantly where Niklaus' arm had touched it and the feeling in her heart was the farthest thing from peaceful. She had averted her face from him in order to hide the blush that stained her cheeks a light shade of crimson. She couldn't provide a rational explanation for this sudden attraction she felt for Niklaus, one of her brother's oldest and closest friends and she did not wish for him to know about it when she scarcely understood what she felt. So she had been quiet the rest of the time in Dodsley's and Niklaus had withdrawn after a few attempts at conversation fell flat. He, had however, purchased a fine, leather bound copy of Shakespeare's works and had it embossed with her name. She could not suppress her happiness and had thanked him warmly. The smile on his face had been breath takingly beautiful.

* * *

As darkness fell, arm in arm and smiling serenly, they made their way to the main avenue to find their absconding duo of Miss Elbert and Lady Susan, who emerged from a sweet shop, their reticules as empty as when they had gotten down from the carriage. One could not maintain a figure like Lady Susan and fit into those monstrosities called corsets if one bought refreshments from a sweet shop. Miss Elbert, whose rotund shape belied her fondness for sugar had refrained from purchase as a gesture of solidarity.

Lady Susan looked at her hand on Niklaus 's arm with a distasteful expression and then coldly refused his proffered arm, choosing to accompany Miss Elbert instead. Alina, unaffected by the older woman's behavior smiled at Sarah who followed them at a respectable distance and Niklaus gazed after his Cousin, puzzled by the sudden change in her behavior.

* * *

It was magnificent, the way Pall Mall was illuminated with gas lights, the wicks flickering weakly at first and then catching fire and burning happily as the street was illuminated slowly, the lamps coming to life one by one.

She had squealed in delight, much to her embarrassment and Lady Susan's vindictive delight but Niklaus seemed preoccupied and hardly responded to any of her exclamations about how fascinating the view before them was. He had disengaged her arm from his own and making his apologies had disappeared into the crowd, Lady Susan hot on his heels, leaving her with Miss Elbert and Sarah. The latter surprised to see her young Mistress abandoned amongst the raucous crowd and the former smirking at her friend's pursuit of her cousin. Lady Susan was famed for her conquests after all and Niklaus Wentworth was the finest prize in London these days.

* * *

Tired of waiting for Lord Wentworth to return and the pangs of hunger that assaulted her stomach at regular intervals, Alina decided to purchase some sweets off a nearby vendor, her father's strict instructions about not interacting with anyone not of her own party, forgotten in the chaos around her. Pushing her way through the throng of people covering the streets, she made her way to the vendor, an alarmed Sarah hanging onto her pelisse and Miss Elbert made no effort to follow them. Children of all kinds, rich and poor, tall and short, stick thin and over indulged hounded the vendor and Alina, her head hurting from the noise asked Sarah to purchase the sweets for her and pointed to a nearby relatively quieter alley where she would be waiting. Sarah did not agree with this separation but had no choice but to obey her Mistress. Alina sighed and made her way towards the alley. Cloistered between two giant buildings, it was dark and quiet and a welcome respite from the loud, bright spectacle around her. Tired, the lights didn't seem so marvellous anymore and she longed for her warm bed waiting for her at home. She leant her head against the cool bricks of the alley and gazed at the sky above. The stars were hardly visible and she was filled with a sudden, desperate longing for Milton Hall where quiet, solitude, peace and stars abounded. Her reverie was broken as two drunken figures stumbled into the alley, giggling and clutching each other, so engrossed in their activities that they failed to notice her presence. Sudden struck by the impropriety of her actions, she made her way out of the alley when a passing carriage threw the faces of the amorous couple who had invaded her sanctuary into sharp relief. It was none other than Niklaus and Lady Susan. He smiled rakishly as Lady Susan clutched the lapels of his coat. She turned away as he leant towards his cousin and walked sedately out of the alley, furtively wiping the hot tears that leaked out of her eyes.

* * *

The carriage ride was silent and uncomfortable. Alina had found Sarah before she had even bought the sweets and together they both had traversed the streets, searching for Miss Elbert as most of the people made their way home. They did not find her but their path crossed with that of the Wentworth's footman, who led them to the carriage where they waited for the rest of their party for more than three quarters of an hour. There was a sudden commotion outside the door of the carriage and then entered Miss Elbert, her face red and sweaty, followed by Lady Susan who looked immaculate, not a hair out of place but was betrayed by her flushed cheeks and the swollen lips. Niklaus handed her into the carriage and then climbed into his seat, his eyes focused on Alina who gazed resolutely out of the dirty carriage window and refused to meet his eyes.

They spent the entire ride in silence, Miss Elbert falling asleep and snoring like an elephant, Lady Susan smiling triumphantly and Niklaus with his head against the wall of the carriage. It made her miss Milton and her family even more. She was sure that Dickie or Fitz would have never have been so irresponsible so as to abandon her in a crowded market place for an assignation with a woman. If it had been the four of them, Richard, Fitzwilliam, Georgiana and her, they would have had enjoyed themselves immensely. Richard would have pointed out all the overdressed ladies and simpering dandies and they would have amused themselves at their expense. Fitz would have been like a mother hen, checking if they were warm and bringing refreshments and not allowing them to lift a finger from his arm, forget leaving them alone. Georgiana would have shared her delight in seeing the demonstration and the ride home would have been filled with laughter. Richard and Georgiana would have nodded off eventually and then Fitz would've smiled at her, his brown eyes shining with contentment and she would have leant her head against the cool glass of the carriage window and surrendered to Hypnos-'

Her daydream was brought to an abrupt halt as the carriage jerked to a stop and the footman called out 'Fitzwilliam House' in an unmistakably tired voice. Sarah looked at her, asking for permission and Alina nodded imperceptibly in response. Sarah descended from the carriage, her cheeks flushing with colour when the Wentworth footman assisted her. Alina sighed at the vision for it did nothing to ease the tumult in her heart and moved to get up. It was a tad difficult, moving past three pairs of legs to get out of the carriage and it took a particularly hard knock against Lady Susan's leg for Niklaus to remember that he should disembark from the carriage in order to facilitate Alina's descent. He did so and held out a hand for Alina to take, who took his proffered hand gingerly and let go of it as soon as it was proper to do so. She turned to go home.

'Lady Alina.' Niklaus' smooth baritone broke the silence that surrounded them.

She turned back to face him. 'Lord Wentworth.' Her face was expressionless, it gave no clue about her feelings.

'I hope you had a pleasant evening', he ventured hesitantly. She could not decide if he was extremely foolish or brave.

'As pleasant as it could be when one is abandoned by the host,' she replied icily.

He bowed his head. 'I apologize.'

'I bid you a good night, Lord Wentworth.'

She turned on her heel and made her way to the now open door manned by the old Mr. Thomas. Alina did not look back even once. And his eyes never strayed from her while the butler glared reprovingly at the young man standing by his carriage who did not escort the young Mistress to the door.

* * *

Hey guys

Been damn busy. Hope you liked this chapter.

Gotta go but one last thing REVIEW!


	13. A Merrytown in Hertfordshire

**Chapter Thirteen**

A/N: Heyyy, sorry this is not a new chapter, I just decided to split the 12th chapter into two because 12th was really too big and unsymmetrical with the rest of the chapters.

A big thank you to EngLitlover, Captain Americanna, Princess Gigistarhearts, 2luv2laff4u, coffeebookchiller, Guest and mysterious for their awesome reviews! Your reviews keep me going guys :)

* * *

En route to Cambridgeshire

(Through Hertfordshire)

May 1807

'I cannot express in words how glad I am to have finally escaped London', Alina confided in Robert, who sat across from her in the carriage.

'I mirror your sentiments', quipped her brother tiredly as he rubbed his eyes. 'I was tired of being continuously introduced to every single lady of consequence residing in town. Father seemed determined to marry me off this season.'

Alina chuckled weakly. 'He was more interested in marriage matches than any Society Mamma.'

'I might appreciate his interest in any other sphere of my life,' said Robert dryly. 'But I would prefer if he left the choice to enter into matrimony to me.'

'He is concerned about you-'

'Concerned about me?', bit out Robert bitterly. 'He is concerned about securing a heir for Milton before he dies because I clearly cannot be trusted.'

Seeing the look on Alina's face, he apologized. It was an open secret that Robert Fitzwilliam, heir to Milton Hall and Fitzwilliam House, was not very fond of his father's second marriage. He had lived away from home for several years but the breach had been healed after his half-sister had saved him from being trapped into marriage with a madwoman: Miss Pembrooke, whose infatuation with him extended into the realms of obsession and insanity. He had visited Milton more times in the previous two years than he had in the past decade. It had excited the gossipmongers in ton to no end. They called it the 'return of the prodigal son' in the gossip rags that were widely circulated and perused by everyone residing in London.

'Is there someone you are interested in marrying?' Alina asked curiously. According to her father, Robert had shown no interest in any of the ladies he had been introduced to.

'Presently, no', her brother answered sourly. 'I am not a prize stud to be sold to the one with the highest dowry. And every woman I have encountered has been enamored by my fortune and my position as the Fitzwilliam heir. If I had not these, they wouldn't have spared me a second glance.'

'Oh they would've!', said Alina slyly. 'However it would not be as a prospective husband.'

'Dear sister', declared Robert, placing a hand on his heart. 'If you are implying what I understand you are, then you have a filthier mind than half the lads in England.'

'You are to blame for this', shot back his sister pertly.'My childish innocence was stripped away the moment I saw you lying with Miss Pembrooke.'

'Be still, my beating heart', quoted Robert. 'Why must your conversation be extraordinarily intelligent or horrendously improper? Can you never talk about the weather, your accomplishments like a proper Englishwoman?'

'Oh Pfft!', she fanned herself with her hand. 'Let me enjoy my impropriety till I can. For once I am presented at court and obligated to attend every high society ball and Almack's my conversation will become as dull and drab as that of every woman you encountered this season. Perhaps even more so because I have no practice in babbling inanities.'

'You must dance all your dances with Darce then', jested Robert. 'He is the only man of my acquaintance who will not mind half an hour silence while dancing.'

'He was sorely missed this season by all the ladies, I gathered from Father's comments', added Alina.

'Especially Carol Bingley-'

'Caroline.'

'Does it matter? We call her good ol' carrot top at Whites. They've-'

'You gentlemen gossip like a group of old biddies-'

'Please don't pretend that you are not interested in all the titbits I throw your way.'

Alina merely snorted in response.

'Yes, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by my dear, sweet sister, we've made wagers on how many years it will take for dear ol' carrot top to realize that Fitzwilliam is never going to offer for her. He is too enamored by a certain sprite with violet eyes to even contemplate another.'

Alina's cheeks were a bright shade of crimson after this impertinent remark by her brother.

'Why must you insist on something that doesn't even exist?',she complained petulantly. 'Darce and I are never going to marry each other and I would appreciate if you would let it sink through your thick skull.'

'Yes, ofcourse', mocked Robert. 'You embrace him openly in the Pemberley grounds, he carries you in his arms to the Pemberley chapel and you spend a night there, alone and unchaperoned, I might add and then you expect me to believe that Darcy will not marry you-'

'How do you know all this?', questioned Alina, angrily. No one was privy to whatever happened between her and Darce except her father and he would have never betrayed her confidence. At the guilty look on Robert's face, she realized his source.

'You read my journal, you prying pig!', she exclaimed and landed a few sound blows on his person.

'Get off me you wild harridan', he shouted as he tried to fend her off. She was surprisingly strong for a girl of sixteen but he supposed that came with learning sword fighting with incredibly heavy swords. 'How was I supposed to resist the temptation of reading it if you insist on labeling it 'The Wildly Improper Lady Alina Fitzwilliam', a book with a title like that is practically begging to be read.'

'No, it is not!', she replied and sank back into her seat, breathing heavily as her brother straightened in his.

'Dear God in Heaven', he exclaimed. 'I have never been assaulted so strongly in my life.'

'That's retaliation for your abominable behavior', she said primly. 'I await your apology.'

'I believe there was a bit about that Wentworth fellow, Richard's friend..Daniel?'

He was silenced by a hard kick to his shin.

* * *

A few hours later

'Promise not to hit me.'

'I refuse to promise anything that denies me the few pleasures I have in life, namely beating up my prying, rude brother.

'Please.'

'No.'

'Are you infatuated with Niklaus Wentworth?'

'So you know his name.'

'You did not answer my question.'

'I am not', she denied furiously.

'You are! The way you passionately deny it confirms my suspicions.'

'Can you talk of nothing else? I concede defeat. Let us talk of the weather and my accomplishments, anything else other than this useless talk.'

'I refuse to honor any suggestion that denies me the few pleasures I have in life, namely pestering my lovelorn, sad sister.', he shot back.

She ignored him and proceeded to stare out of the window.

'What is it that you stare at so intently?', he complained. 'It is dark outside. May we not alleviate our boredom with some conversation? You could confide in me about your hapless longing for Nik Wentworth.'

She stared at him, her face blank. 'I do not know of what you speak.'

'Your evasion of my question is dangerously close to lying territory.'

She sighed. 'I was infatuated with him for a little while and seeing him in an improper embrace with his cousin, Lady Susan, extinguished the so called flames of passion as you refer to it.'

'Ah! Young love', said her brother, his tone dripping with nostalgia. 'It oft ends in heart break.'

'I am quite aware', she answered quietly.

Robert laid a consoling hand on her shoulder. 'It is quite healthy to be crossed in love occasionally though I think it is a divine sign that Darce is the one for you-'

'ROBERT!'

And so they carried on for the rest of the journey to Hertfordshire.

* * *

'We've deviated quite a bit from our usual route', commented Robert as they neared a sleepy little town in Hertfordshire called Meryton. 'And it's longer too.'

'What caused you to chose this way?', Alina yawned as she spoke, tired from the long journey in the carriage.

'I do like to ignore Father's orders now and then', he said absently.

Alina looked at him reproachfully.

'Oh cease looking at me like that!', he complained. 'You manage to make me feel like a guilty schoolboy. And we've not been accosted by any highwaymen, have we? So my disobedience-'

He was interrupted as the carriage lurched violently and tilted to the side. They braced themselves against the walls of the carriage and as soon as the carriage stopped rocking wildly, descended from it.

Robert swore loudly as he saw the broken wheel. 'Father will have my head for this.'

Alina crossed her arms and glared at her foolish brother. 'Please, proceed to tempt fate again. Did you have to gloat about your actions having no consequences?'

'I cannot believe that you blame me for the wheel being broken!'

Their squabble was interrupted by Mr. Brian, the most trusted footman at Milton who had been unhappy with this plan to switch their traveling route from the start.

'I believe we should make our way to the inn, Sir', he ventured hesitantly.

'You are right, Brian', agreed Robert as he ran a hand through his tousled hair agitatedly, trying to work out the logistics of getting a party of six to the inn.

'I think we should all go together', Alina suggested quietly. 'There is safety in numbers after all.'

'Yes', Robert replied shortly as he watched the driver untangle the horses from the reins. 'It appears we shall all have to walk for the horses look too spooked to be of any use.'

'How far is Meryton from here?', he asked, looking at each of them for an answer.

'Two and a half miles, Sir', answered the driver.

'Will you be able to walk that far Alina?', he questioned. Alina arched an eyebrow in response.

'Forgive me. I had forgotten your aptitude in the art of walking. Sarah, will you be able to walk that far?'

Sarah, who was having her courses and had slept fitfully the previous night was too tired to traverse the distance on foot but couldn't think of a way to tell the truth to the Viscount.

'I...'she trailed off as all of them turned to watch a wagon approaching them, its lights shining brightly in the distance.

'If the man is trustworthy and his wagon empty, we may ask him for assistance', commented Robert, his hands behind his back as he watched the wagon come nearer.

On seeing the party of six, it stopped and the driver, a man of over forty, looked at the party hesitantly.

'Good Sir', Robert approached him. 'I am Robert Fitzwilliam of Milton Hall, Cambridgeshire, pardon the informal introduction, my carriage has cast a wheel and I would be really obliged to you if you could help us reach the inn-'

'You need not worry Mr. Fitzwilliam', boomed the other man, startling all of them and Robert looked a little awestruck for he had never been addressed as Mr. Fitzwilliam in his life. 'I am Sir William Lucas of Lucas Lodge, Meryton, the local magistrate. It is my duty to help the public.'

They all exhaled in unison. This was better than they had hoped for. The likelihood of being looted and murdered had drastically decreased.

'Come aboard my humble wagon, good Sirs and madams', he laughed warmly and soon, four of them were seated comfortably in the warm hay of his carriage along with two servant boys, presumably belonging to Lucas Lodge. The driver and Mr. Brian were to lead the horses to the Meryton inn. Sir Lucas assured them about their safety on that particular stretch of road and it was with visible relief that Mr. Brian replaced his pistol in its box.

Sir Lucas flicked the reins and soon they were on their way to Meryton. The rhythmic motion of the wagon soon put Alina to sleep and she nodded off against her brother's shoulder.

* * *

She felt as if her body was on fire. She twisted in the sheets, her body covered with sweat, the bed extremely hot beneath her and finally tumbled to the rough but cold floor.

'Damnation!', she swore and then held up a hand to her mouth in mortification. Oh God, Robert's company certainly had its disadvantages. How she wished that she could've slept in the open like the boys last night. The inn was filled to the brim with travellers for Meryton was hosting a village fair and people had come from far and near, to buy and sell all kinds of goods. After much haggling with the inn keeper in which Robert was forced to reveal his true title of Viscount Milton, which incidentally he hated doing: having a particular fondness for travelling incognito, in order to secure a bed for Alina and Sarah. All that had gone to waste for the room was ugly, damp and downright uncomfortable. She had not slept this poorly since that week at Pemberley when she had been plagued by nightmares.

Sighing, she rose from the floor and brushed the dust off her clothes. Sarah was sleeping soundly on a cot in the corner. Gently, she shook her awake and after taking care of their morning abulations, they both dressed and proceeded to the dining room downstairs.

* * *

Robert was dressed immaculately and did not appear as if he spent the previous night in a barn. He was eating his breakfast with unmatchable enthusiasm, his table manners as atrocious as they had been two years ago. She approached him, dragging Sarah with her, who looked extremely confused for servants were not supposed to be seated with their masters.

Robert looked up at them, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion upon seeing Sarah with Alina but after a couple of wild gestures from his sister, finally understood her meaning.

'You must sit with us, Sarah', he said, smiling. 'I cannot allow the Hertfordshire boys to ogle a beautiful girl from Cambridgeshire.'

Sarah blushed and took a seat as Alina glared at him.

'Dear sister', he said, casually. 'Remove that ugly expression from your face before it gets frozen like that. It'll be terribly hard to marry you off then.'

'It must have been a moment of madness in which I consented to travel with you, you rude and dirty pig', she commented as she spread butter on her bread.

'If I were you, I would refrain from insulting the main course', he shot back, uncovering a dish of ham.

Alina could think of no reply that would be acceptable in company and resorted to eating her breakfast in silence.

'Well Ladies', he said as he got up from the table. 'I must take your leave and get our carriage repaired. You, in the meantime, may stay at the inn which knowing you, seems optimistic to the point of foolishness, so you have my permission to amuse yourselves at the shops in Meryton but you are not to talk to any one. Understood?'

Alina nodded mutely.

'Good', he replied. 'I think I'll make a terrific father. And you must take Marcus with you, he'll look after you in case you decide to wander off.'

Bowing to them, he turned on his heel and left the room as several ladies in the inn admired his fine figure to Alina's embarrassment.

* * *

The shops at Meryton had nothing new to offer, nothing that was not sold in London and as they were not allowed to visit the village fair or walk to Oakham Mount, a beautiful scenic spot, Alina contended herself by visiting the local confectionery located at the main thoroughfare which offered a vast selection of sweets. She sat outside with Sarah, muching on delicious, homemade sweets, watching the people of Meryton go about their daily business. A loud woman making her way to the sweetshop with five girls of various ages in tow caught her eye.

'Now you listen to me, Lyddie and Kitty', she said in an authoritative voice. 'You will sit here with your sisters and be nice and quiet till I come back. Alright?'

The youngest duo looked at the vast array of sweets and nodded eagerly. Apparently, their good behavior was to be rewarded with sweets from the shop.

'You watch over them, Jane', she said to the oldest girl, a blonde beauty who looked to be about eighteen. Alina thanked her stars that Robert was not present or he would've fancied himself in love after one look at her.

'And you, Lizzy', the lady continued sternly. 'Don't you dare wander to the bookshop and leave your sisters alone with Janie. You must assume some responsiblity.'

The slight brunette seated next to the blond nodded, her cheeks suffused with colour after being publicly admonished by her mother.

The lady finally looked at the quiet girl with spectacles who stood quietly in a corner, a book clutched to her chest.

'Oh', the woman exclaimed, 'where will you sit Mary?' She looked around the shop and seeing the only empty seats being the ones at Alina's table, approached her.

'Forgive my presumption, but I believe you seek a chair for your daughter', Alina said before the woman could open her mouth.

'Er..yes', the woman replied hesitantly, unsure of how to deal with this confident child.

'She can sit with us, we'll take good care of her', Alina assured her, aiming a dazzling smile her way. The slight brunette narrowed her eyes at this excessive display of politeness. The woman however was delighted.

'Thank you, my dear', she said warmly. 'I have five girls you see, a terribly hard task for a mother and I'm not getting any younger. I need to visit old Mr. Smith, the apothecary you know and I couldn't leave the girls alone at home, a lot of shady characters are in town because of the fair and I might come back to find them murdered in their beds-'

'Mamma', exclaimed the brunette, 'It is past ten already.'

'Oh dear! I must be on my way.' She looked warmly at Alina. 'Thank you, dear, may I know your name?'

'Alina, madam.'

'What an exotic name!'

'You are very kind, Mrs.-'

'Mrs. Bennet, dear, Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire.'

* * *

A/N: Everyone needs a Robert in their lives :P I just love him.

Love,

Mango


	14. Say No to Fordyce Friends

Chapter Fourteen

For Kathy

Meryton

Hertfordshire

May 1807

After fussing after her children and giving them some last minute instructions which were essentially a repeat of what she had said earlier, Mrs. Bennet brushed a warm, loving hand over Alina's head in farewell and descended the steps to the thoroughfare. She watched Mrs. Bennet disappear into the crowd and was surprised by the mild affection she felt for the loud, matronly woman she had met only moments ago.

Though Mrs. Bennet was most certainly a gentlewoman for she had mentioned an estate-Longbourn- she was completely different from any other woman belonging to proper society Alina had ever encountered. In their sphere, mothers did not travel with their daughters in tow and never left them alone in public, without the supervision of a governess. Regardless of her unusual behavior, Alina found herself wishing that her own mother could perhaps be a bit more like the loud, effervescent Mrs. Bennet.

Oh yes, she did adore Alexandra Fitzwilliam but at times she seemed more like a distant relative who came to visit occasionally. After observing her mother, Aunt Catherine and various other Society Mammas she had the misfortune of meeting in London,she had concluded that this was how mothers were supposed to be until seeing Mrs. Bennet's obvious warmth and affection towards her children had brought back memories of Auntie Annie, a woman who had been more loving and caring towards her in the little time they had together than the fifteen years with her mother. It confused her: Were Mrs. Bennet and Auntie Annie the norm when it came to mothers or the exceptions?

Her train of thought was interrupted when someone cleared their throat rather pointedly and she returned to her surroundings only to see the little girl in front of her glaring indignantly at her with her arms crossed across her chest.

'My mother says it is most improper to ignore your guests', she said in an injured tone to the consternation of her sisters who reprimanded her with a firm 'Mary!'

Alina on the other hand couldn't contain the amused grin that pulled at the corners of her mouth.

'Your mother is a very wise woman',she said seriously, her violet eyes dancing with mirth in contrast to her tone. 'And I must apologize for my abominable behavior.'

The girl seemed inordinately pleased as she replied, 'You're forgiven.'

The blonde sister however seemed to be getting increasingly incensed at her sister's behavior and moved to stand behind her as she addressed Alina.

'You must forgive my sister her impertinence-' she said anxiously as the brunette chuckled in the background, apparently amused by her younger sister's bluntness.

Alina however was tired of the cold formality that had cloaked her interactions with everyone she had met in London and wanted to have an honest conversation without worrying about societal conventions for once.

'Tis of no import, Miss Bennet', she said smiling at the bespectacled child in front of her. 'Your sister is absolutely justified in subtly reprimanding me for my inattention. Such a quick little child.'

The child's cheeks flushed with color at the praise and she looked at Alina adoringly.

'Why don't you sit with us Miss Bennet?' Alina offered, loooking at the blonde, not caring a whit that she had not been formally introduced to this woman. Oh only if Aunt Catherine could see her now!

The blonde-Jane-shook her head in response and smiled wryly. 'I must look after my youngest sisters for Lizzy gets them more often that she gets them out of it.'

The brunette-Lizzy-scoffed good naturedly at her sister's mild teasing. 'Jane', she teased, her eyes shining with good humour, 'if only everyone could be as perfect as you, my dear, then this would indeed be paradise on Earth.'

Alina found herself smiling at their evident affection for each other. It reminded her of her carefree conversations with Richard, her courageous yet foolish brother who had recently fought in the battle of Montevideo after refusing to come home after being injured in Britain's disastrous invasion of Buenos Aires the previous year.

She nodded politely as Jane inclined her head in her direction and proceeded to sit with her three sisters. Alina watched them for a minute before returning her gaze to the one in front of her. She seemed to be of Georgiana's age and Alina felt a sudden desire to protect her. Shaking her head to clear it of these strange thoughts, she smiled at her.

'Miss Mary', she said amusedly. 'May I know which book you clutch so protectively?'

The girl blushed again before offering the thick tome to Alina who almost dropped it after glancing at the title.

'Fordyce!'she exclaimed, horrified. 'Why little one, what gave you cause to read this..this book?

'I..', the child seemed to be at a loss for words after Alina's outburst and Alina felt a tad guilty for scaring her.

'Forgive me', she said meekly. 'But I am curious about your wish to read this particular book.'

'The parson recommended it', interrupted the brunette-Lizzy. 'And the good little religious girl our Mary is, she decided to purchase it the following day.'

She smiled mirthfully as she said it but Alina could see that Mary was hurt by Lizzy's joke at her expense.

'My cousin gifted the volumes of his sermons to me', she commented casually, hoping to distract Mary. 'I must say I found them truly horrendous', she confided in the little girl, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

Mary leant forward, interested.

'Why?', she asked curiously.

Alina ruminated over her question for a minute then organizing her thoughts in her head, said 'Tell me, Miss Mary, suppose you were quite proficient at piano playing and one of your sisters who has not touched the pianoforte even once in her life tries to advise you on your fingering, would you consider her advice to be of any value?'

'No', Mary answered resolutely, glaring at her youngest sister who was salivating over the sweets that lined the shelves of the sweet shop. Ah! So this had happened in the Bennet household. She did her best to suppress her smug smirk.

'Why?', she questioned the young girl.

'Why?', parroted back the child, confused.

'Why would you ignore her advice?', Alina elaborated.

'Because she does not know anything about it,'exclaimed Mary heatedly, looking sourly at her younger sister.

'Exactly!' Alina exclaimed. 'Mr. Fordyce is not a woman, is he?'

Mark shook her head.

'Then how can he tell us what it proper for women: what books to read, what interests to pursue, even what thoughts to think if he knows next to nothing about being a woman? Reading and believing what he writes is akin to listening to your sister's advice about your fingering.'

To her ears, the arguement sounded fooolish and weak but the child in front of her looked flabbbergasted. She relinquished her tight hold on the book and it fell onto the table with a light thud.

'But what do I read then?'Mary questioned helplessly. 'What should I read to improve my mind?

Alina smiled as she rose from her chair. 'Now Miss Mary, how do you feel about accompanying me to the bookshop?'

The girl nodded enthusiastically and Alina looked over Mary's head to see Lizzy grinning at her in approval. Her smile widened. 'Would you consent to accompany us Miss-?'

'Elizabeth', said the brunette as she made her way towards them. 'Elizabeth Bennet, eccentric extraordinaire at your service.'

'Alina Fitzwilliam', she replied, holding out her hand in a friendly but grossly improper gesture. 'Just as eccentric.'

* * *

They walked together, Mary between them, clutching their hands just as tightly as she had clutched the volumes of Fordyce, the summer sun bringing out the gold in their dark hair and warming their bodies pleasantly. They made conversation as they walked; talking about everything under the sun and Alina was pleased to discover that Elizabeth was a clever and intelligent young lady who loved the outdoors as much as she did.

She liked Elizabeth. She was so different from the haughty, pretentious, feather brained misses she had seen in London. Elizabeth was smart, witty and could even read Greek-a highly unusual accomplishment for a lady. She, on the other hand, had abandoned her pursuit of Greek after the letters started to mesh together on the page and could only claim to be passably proficient in French and Italian and a beginner when it came to Spanish, for she had been learning a bit of that language from the letters Richard so kindly sent her instead of coming home. She huffed angrily at her brother's inconsideration for his own health and Elizabeth looked at her in surprise, startled by her sudden change in mood.

'May I ask, Miss Fitzwilliam', Elizabeth said, an ever present smile gracing her features. 'What puts you in so foul a mood this fine morning?'

'Tis my brother', she complained. At Elizabeth's questioning look, she elaborated. 'He is a lieutenant colonel in His Majesty's Army, fighting for the crown in the Latin Americas who refuses to come home inspite of being injured.'

'It is a noble profession', Elizabeth replied, kindly as Mary nodded her pretty little head in agreement.

'Noble, yes', she agreed tiredly, gazing up at the afternoon sun. Time was different in the Latin Americas, so it would probably be morning for Richard. She sighed and turned to look at Elizabeth. 'But I cannot help worrying about his safety. He is a hot blooded, impulsive buffoon, excessively prone to fits of recklessness.'

'Oh to have brothers', Elizabeth sighed, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief. 'But sadly, the Lord has denied me the pleasure of a dashing, handsome brother, choosing to test me by giving me not one, not two but four sisters!'

'Lizzy', exclaimed Mary, affronted. 'You must be grateful for your..blessings.'

Alina chuckled quietly as Elizabeth tickled Mary's middle. 'And you little Miss, must learn to discern between jests and actual conversation or you shall find yourself outsmarted by your extremely intelligent sister!'

Looking at her merry companions, Alina touched the cross at her neck and recited a silent prayer of thanks: thanking the Lord for giving her friends to drive away her loneliness. Meeting Elizabeth and Mary in these unusual circumstances had taught her that happiness and friendship could be found in the most unexpected places if only one gathered the courage to seek it.

* * *

Alina brushed her fingers against the numerous titles that lined the shelves in front of her, remembering another time and place. Though the visit to Pall Mall had ended on a sour note, she looked on the time spent with Niklaus in Dodsley's with fond remembrance.

The copy of Shakespeare's tales that he had gifted her had been read so thoroughly that it resembled a decade old book than a new one.

She threw her head back in contemplation as she thought of Niklaus. She had not seen him since that disappointing night in late January but the rumours of his countless dalliances with the vapid young misses of London had reached her ears. Lady Susan was conspicuous by her absence in the long list of his lovers but then she was famous for her subtle underhanded ways. Niklaus was certainly living up to his reputation of being a heartstealer, leaving broken hearts in his wake, yet girls flocked to him like bees to a flower.

She couldn't really blame them. She, who prided herself on her intelligence and powers of discernment had fallen for Niklaus' beautiful blue eyes and charming smile. Niklaus had an innate talent for captivating women, it seemed, and she was no exception.

Her only saving grace was the fact that he was unaware of her foolish feelings. To him, she was merely the miffed sister of a friend and God willing, that was all she would be to him.

Thoughts of Niklaus filled her with sadness. This boy gallivanting all over London, breaking hearts left, right and centre was not the little boy she had known all her life; not the boy who lay with her on the grass, stargazing for so long that the damp seeped through their clothes and taught her to find the constellations; not the little boy who had always readily sacrificed his life for hers when they played Knights of the castle; he was not the little boy who accompanied Richard when her brother smuggled her favourite biscuits through her window when she had been confined to her room for calling Aunt Catherine 'fat'; he was not the same boy who climbed up a tree at five in the morning to rescue her cat; he was not the boy who dived into the pond after her when she was seven and didn't know how to swim inspite of his fear of water. Oh God, where was her Niklaus?

Sighing and leaving thoughts of Niklaus in the dusty aisles of the bookshop, she proceeded to the counter, Charles and Mary Lamb's Tales from Shakespeare for children tucked under her arm.

* * *

Elizabeth who was browsing for books along with Mary made her way towards Alina, a serene expression on her face. She enjoyed reading and the bookshop was perhaps her favourite place on Earth after her father's library.

'What did you find?', she asked Elizabeth, trying to read the title of the book in her hand. Elizabeth grinned puckishly and promptly covered the title with her hand.

'Elizabeth', she complained.

'Alina', Elizabeth replied in a mock serious tone as Mary giggled in delight.

'It's a gift for you', Mary said excitedly, bouncing on her heels.

'You did not-'

'Alina', Elizabeth interrupted. 'If I am not mistaken, the book in your hand is a gift for Mary is it not?'

'Yes', she admitted grudgingly.

'Then you can not blame us for reciprocating', Elizabeth concluded smugly as she placed the book on the counter in front of the young clerk who watched them in quiet amusement. 'Mr. Grayson, if you could add this to father's account please?'

Alina tried her best to pay for the book but Elizabeth gripped her arm rather tightly as the clerk wrapped the book in brown paper.

'I concede defeat', Alina huffed ungraciously and disentangled her arm for Elizabeth's suddenly slack grip. Elizabeth smiled winningly at her in response. It was a shame that she was so young or she would have made a fitting Countess of Milton. But, Robert couldn't be more than a decade older than her could he?

Mr. Grayson handed Elizabeth the package and picked up the book she had selected for Mary. 'Quite a remarkable book', he commented as he covered it with brown paper. Alina subtly kept the money near the till when Elizabeth was distracted and wordlessly gestured at the clerk to pick it up when the girls were distracted. He nodded with an understanding smile and handed her the package.

They left the shop hand in hand, only to collide with the gentleman entering the shop and Mary fell onto the ground from the force of the collision as Alina smacked her brother angrily.

'ROBERT!', she said crossly as her frazzled brother knelt in front of Mary and checked her for injuries.

'I apologize, Miss', he said contritely as he helped her up and Elizabeth dusted off her skirts.

Mary nodded as she adjusted her spectacles on her nose only to see that the glass was missing from one side of the frame.

'Oh', Robert said, his eloquence astounding as he saw her broken glasses. 'I..I will compensate you-'

'There is no need for that Sir', interrupted Elizabeth, making a quick courtesy in greeting.

'Oh dear', Alina sighed, cursing herself for her forgetfulness. 'Robert, these are Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Mary Bennet of Longbourn, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, this is my brother, Robert Fitzwilliam.'

'Tis my pleasure to make your acquaintance', Robert said suavely, his demeanour vastly different from the distracted man who had banged into them at the entrance of the bookshop, as he made an elegant bow in their direction.

They both curtsied prettily in response and Alina was quite impressed by Mary's flawless curtsy. It seemed that Robert shared her opinion for he bowed again and _then_ knelt in front of the little girl, who looked at him questioningly. Alina sighed in resignation. There he went again.

'Will you forgive me, your majesty and allow me to compensate your loss?', he said, aiming a dazzling smile at Mary who looked stumped.

'Mr. Fitzwilliam', interrupted Elizabeth, her cheeks flushed with colour as she looked at Robert, 'there is no need for that since Mary has a spare pair at home-'

'Miss Elizabeth-'

'You are too kind Sir', Mary said over her brother as she smiled shyly and Alina covered her mouth with her hand to smother her laughter.

Robert laughed and offered his arm to Mary, 'Well then, let's pay a visit to the optician, shall we?'

As Elizabeth led them towards the optician, Robert glanced over his shoulder and discreetly nodded in the direction of a lady standing at the end of the lane who smiled and then turned away, much to Alina's puzzlement.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky when it was time to bid farewell to her friends.

'Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary', Robert said politely, 'We must take your leave. I leave Meryton an enchanted man.' He looked at Elizabeth as he said this and she smiled amusedly in response. She was too smart to be caught in a honeytrap, Alina thought smugly.

They both curtsied again. Alina moved towards them and clasped Elizabeth's hands in her own.

'Elizabeth', she said warmly. 'It has been a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.'

Elizabeth pressed her hands in understanding. After all, it was not often that they met people who shared their opinions and interests. 'I feel the same.'

Alina nodded, blinking back the tears that had gathered in her eyes.

'Mary', she said gently as she turned to the young girl. 'I wish you all the happiness in the world.'

The girl looked up at her and then hesitantly embraced her. Alina put her arms around Mary's delicate shoulders.

'I will remember you Mary,' she promised, looking at Elizabeth whose eyes seemed a bit glassy as well. 'God willing, we'll find each other again.'

'We shall', agreed Elizabeth, her voice thick with emotion. 'If only you would give me your writing directions.'

Alina shook her head playfully. 'Think of it as an experiment, Miss Elizabeth. Let us see if we can find each other again.'

'Miss Fitzwilliam, I have a sneaking suspicion that we'll see each other again', Elizabeth said pertly and she laughed.

* * *

Longbourn

Meryton

That night, after everyone had gone off to bed, Mary Bennet snuck out of bed and made her way to the library where the package Alina had given her rested innocuously on her father's table. Her mother had confiscated it as punishment for disobeying her and abandoning her sisters and Elizabeth had been banned from the library for a fortnight. Her father had winked at Elizabeth from his place at the head of the table as her mother announced their punishment and she knew that he would ensure that Elizabeth would get her books but she would be ignored as usual.

Shaking her head to clear it of these depressing thoughts, she picked up the package and tore open the brown paper covering it.

'Tales from Shakespeare', was written in gold in gold on the green cover and Mary ran a gentle hand over it in awe. This beautiful book was hers. Hers! She opened the book, its spine cracking loudly and she looked around her in alarm. Thankfully no one was around to get disturbed. Laughing happily, she looked at the note on the first page.

' _For my dear friend, Miss Mary',_ it read in beautiful penmanship, ' _who must know that there are better books to read than Fordyce. Yours affectionately, Lady Alina Fitzwilliam, Milton Hall, Cambridgeshire.'_

Mary smiled as she settled on the sofa and began to read.

* * *

Lucas Lodge

Some distance away, Charlotte Lucas extinguished the last candle in her chamber and climbed into bed, a mysterious smile on her lips and a crimson blush staining her cheeks, transforming her plain features into those of a young woman in love. She tucked a hand under her chain, her other hand tightly holding a piece of paper that held his address: Milton House, Mayfair.

* * *

A few miles away, Alina held Mary Wollstonecraft's A vindication of the rights of women to her chest as she nodded off against her brother's shoulder. He stroked her head gently as he thought of a most unusual woman he had encountered in Meryton. He had talked to her and then found himself offering to correspond with her and then the way her smile lit up her face made him forget the impropriety of his actions. Charlotte Lucas. She would be a fine correspondent indeed.

* * *

The next morning, Mr. Bennet was most surprised to see his quietest daughter sound asleep on the sofa in the library, a book lying open on her chest. He sighed at the sight. The girl was becoming quite passionate about Fordyce's sermons and it seemed like the Lord was intent on compounding his misery by turning Mary into a preachy little nuisance to add to his worries (namely the trio of the featherbrained: Mrs. Bennet, Lydia and Kitty).

He stood over her and looked at her sleeping bespectacled face. He removed her spectacles but they slipped out of his hand and fell on the book. He bent down to retrieve them and found himself face to face with a page detailing Othello's despair after he killed Desdemona.

'This is not Fordyce!', he exclaimed delighted. Thank the Lord, Mary was choosing his side.

* * *

A/N: A big thank you to EdnaH and Fayhenderson for their reviews :) EdnaH, the secret of the letters will be revealed in time.

So, what did you think? Why did Alina give her writing directions to Mary and not Elizabeth? And I bet you did not see Robert/Charlotte coming!

Love,

Mango

P.S. Next update coming up in July. Reviews make me update faster ;)

P.S. I published a Darcy/Alina modern fic called Twenty-Two for those of you who ship them ;) Do check it out!


	15. An interlude

**Chapter Fifteen**

A/N: Hii everyone :) A shout out to Guest, coffeebookchiller, Jenga0508, Sad Rose for their reviews of the last chapter.

EngLitLover, Captain Americanna, I'm missing you guys!

And the rest of you out there, reading and not reviewing, please become a name on the reviews page/followers list instead of being a mere statistic on the traffic page ;)

Reviews are appreciated and encourage the author to update!

Love,

Mango

That's all enjoy :)

P.S. Sinclair Wentworth, Duke of Abney is Niklaus' father.

* * *

 _Excerpt from the journal of Lieutenant Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam_

 _I_

 _I have never been particularly fond of expressing my feelings on paper. It is because I suffer from a surprising lack of eloquence when it comes to transforming my feelings into words and often the essence of my emotions is compromised when they are converted to a phrase on paper._

 _Most people I know fail to understand the reason behind my extremely concise missives-I wouldn't dare to call them letters out of fear of my frightening sister-for I am an exceptional conversationalist when it comes to social interaction and thus, should-by logic-be a good correspondent as well._

 _But if I have to state anything more than my location, physical health and a few commonly used empty platitudes in my letters, I find myself at a loss for words._

 _It also seems quite ironic that I can be so loquacious when it comes to detailing my failure at being eloquent. Life is a series of ironies in my opinion._

 _II_

 _Christopher lies on the bunk across me, groaning and clutching his stomach after a particularly nasty bout of vomiting and yet he finds the strength to question me about what I'm writing. I think he feels offended that I made him write that letter to my family giving my terrible writing abilities as an excuse and yet, here I am scribbling away to glory._

 _I tell him that my newfound eloquence could be a result of his scintillating company. After all, if one spends fifteen days on a ship, confined to a cabin with a friend prone to sickness, the prospect of fifteen more looming large on the horizon, an occupation is necessary and thus I found myself indulging in mindless scribbling to keep myself occupied._

 _The pained look on Christopher's face makes me feel a bit guilty for my retort. The ship's physician has come and gone numerous times but none of his remedies have caused much improvement in Christopher's constitution. I can do nothing for him except divert his mind from his sickness by narrating anecdotes from my childhood._

 _If this were England, I would never dare to address Christopher by his first name: he would always be Sir or Brandon (in my inebriated moments) to me. But when a man saves your life in battle, writes letters to your family detailing your condition, then has the courage to inform them that their errant offspring isn't coming back home, and also drags you home on a ship called Wisteria, Brandon or Sir seems a bit informal for your relationship._

 _It is also strange that I'm able to address Christopher-a man I've known only for a year-by his first name yet I cannot referred to my brother or cousin by their given names._

 _I do not think that I have it in me to refer to Darcy as Fitzwilliam, especially after so much time in the army where everyone refers to me as Fitzwilliam. To do the same for Darcy would seem as if I'm talking to myself. 'Fitzee' a name coined by my lovely sister is out of the realm of possibility; a man would never be caught dead using such a name!_

 _I despise our family's tradition of having the daughters' son named after her family. Thank the Lord that the harpy-I refer to Lady Catherine-did not have a son or we would be blessed with another Fitzwilliam. Thankfully, this tradition will die with Darcy: Alina would never consent to name her child 'Fitzwilliam.' It would be torturous for father and son to have the same name. I can imagine Alina running after the little one, screaming 'Fitzwilliam' and Darcy looking about him confusedly, unsure if she's calling him or berating the child._

 _Speaking of my sister, due to her incessant meddling, Robert and I have started a tentative correspondence but it is painful to respond to his extremely formal letters. Even Darcy's letters are more creative and Darcy is perhaps the most serious and prematurely aged man to walk this earth. Robert uses almost all the greetings and platitudes known to man in his letters and I'm left grasping at thin air for ideas and inspiration._

 _From what I observed of them in my short time spent at home the Christmas of 1805, Robert can match Alina in enthusiasm and wit, so his aloof letters do surprise me. It is perhaps because we were never close during childhood. His reserve and my lacking writing abilities do serve as an impediment to developing a more intimate relationship. I shall perhaps seek Alina's advice in this matter. She is quite resourceful when it comes to smoothing out creases in relationships. I believe my language tutor just performed a somersault in his grave._

 _III_

 _Oh, to be beneath the sky again_

 _To watch the stars twinkle merrily,_

 _To feel the damp on my skin_

 _And be stationary_

 _It seems I do not have_

 _A talent for poetry_

 _IV_

 _Christopher smirked upon reading my last entry. He said I can never woo a maiden with my words so I shall have to borrow someone else's. Well._

 _Spending my time holed up in a cabin with only a tiny pothole serving as a window has given me a new appreciation for the outdoors and French windows._

 _I wish it were July when I returned instead of November so I could celebrate Allie's sixteenth birthday with her and be allowed to sleep in the conservatory. Unfortunately my mother loves me a bit too much and thus, I shall be barred from sleeping outside. So, I shall have to sneak out as Allie often does._

 _Allie, my dear Allie, she would've made a wonderful diplomat if only she had been born a boy. But she was born a girl. When I was at the University and slowly came to the realization that I would have to seek employment in order to survive, I did resent her position quite a bit. The daughter of a wealthy earl with a hefty dowry attached to her name, all she had to do was learn a few superficial skills and then look pretty and smile to catch a rich heir. He would take care of all her needs for the rest of her life and she would never even have to lift a finger to earn a penny: it would be given to her on a silver platter without any effort of her own._

 _As time passed, rationality and Niklaus' passionate arguments in the defence of women prevailed and I learnt to let go of my resentment that blackened my heart. But it was not really until I saw the freedom given to women in South America (the way they cavort freely with men is positively scandalous; Christopher says I'm basing my conclusions on incomplete information as I've only seen the light skirts around the camp and not the 'real' women) did I understand my sister's precarious position. Her gender limits her opportunities to a terrifying extent. She shall always be dependent on the men in her life be it her father or her future husband._

 _She may have financial security but she does not have an iota of the independence that I do. She may be free to do as she pleases in our father's home but I doubt that her husband will be as accommodating of her whims and fancies as my father is. As she grows, my fears for her increase. She is perhaps only a year away from being presented at Court and being out in London Society. My sister is a good, kind girl who wants to help the world and I fear for the safety of her heart. The people that populate London's wealthiest homes pretend to be paragons of virtue and propriety but they are a licentious, immoral bunch of reprobates who can stoop to any low to achieve popularity and precedence amongst themselves._

 _If it were up to me and father, we would marry her to Darcy and be done with it but it is foolish for us to try and protect her from the bad, cruel world she is soon about to enter. Even if she marries Darcy and they spent half their lives in the country, she would have to deal with shameless rakes and double crossings 'ladies'. And sooner or later, she will be stripped of her childish naiveté and innocence but I'll be damned if I don't try to prevent it as long as possible._

 _V_

 _Apparently, Lady Catherine and my beloved sister are not the only nosy, meddlesome people of my acquaintance: Christopher is also a very eager member of the group. I left my private papers on the desk when I went for a rare stroll on the upper deck (we are usually advised to remain below for the rain is unrelenting and the winds dangerous) and this prying pig shamelessly devoured them in an attempt to 'still his jumping stomach'. If he weren't so ill, I would've smacked his face and I told him so too. It was the first time I've heard him laugh._

 _Christopher is not much older than I am, I believe him to be no more than thirty, but the lines on his face and the sadness in his eyes makes him seem much older than he really is. He had his heart broken he says. He loved a woman dearly and she left him for a better prospect and yet he continued to love her and pray for her health and happiness until the news of her death reached his door with a small baby in a basket. He is a single, eligible man yet a father and my admiration and respect for him only increased after hearing his story. If I could be half the man Christopher is, it would be a life well lived._

 _But this doesn't excuse his grave mistake of snooping and making light of my over protective tendencies like a certain upstart acquaintance of mine, ofcourse Niklaus, is wont to do. If they had sisters, they would understand._

 _Oh but our dear Niklaus does have a sister: Michelle, who also holds the dubious distinction of being my sister's dearest friend. The previous Earl of Canterbury and Sinclair Wentworth were bosom friends (it seems very ridiculous to refer to two men as such but they were) and their children grew up together._

 _Niklaus adores Michelle and is almost as protective of her as I am of Alina, the hypocrite. I know this because our proximity to the Canterbury Estate put us in contact with Niklaus as well and I've observed his affection for her first hand. This affection has only grown as the years have passed. After all, Niklaus was barely nineteen when the former Lady Canterbury and Michelle were (I can think of no polite way to phrase this) thrown out to the hedgerows and yet he managed to set up a household for them in G. I sincerely doubt that it was old, nymphomaniac Duke of Abney who thought of that, he is becoming increasingly senile as time passes and his mistresses younger so it must be Niklaus who arranged it._

 _Niklaus has a very contradictory personality. I've seen him emptying his pockets to help the destitute; seen him abandon his studies to help Michelle and her mother and yet he is positively ruthless when it comes to the gentlemen and ladies of the peerage. His cutting insults to gentlemen are often disguised as compliments and he takes great pleasure in toying with the affections of the high society damsels. But I've never seen him taking advantage of shopgirls or women in service unlike many gentlemen of his acquaintance._

 _Niklaus is a conundrum and Lord help the poor woman who marries him. Alina speculates that Niklaus is in love with Michelle based on his solicitousness towards her but that is the parameter for declaring that Niklaus Wentworth is in love then the man is in love with half of England (the poorer half) including my sister._

 _I can never forget the Christmas at Milton when I was sixteen. Alina called Lady Catherine 'a fat patridge' under her breath at dinner for indiscreetly suggesting that George Darcy marry her so Georgiana could have a proper example for a mother and it led to a remarkable scene which ended with my father calling Lady Catherine a cruel, selfish harpy and my sister being confined to her room for three days with only bread and water for sustenance. I, of course, couldn't bear such injustice and allied with Niklaus and Michelle to steal Alina's favourite biscuits from the kitchen and Niklaus snuck into her room to deliver the goods as I stood guard and Michelle acted as distraction. She was quite horrible at it for we were discovered and Niklaus' backside soundly abused for being alone in a room with a sleeping seven year old lady. But the gentlemen that he is, he never complained. I spied Darcy thanking him for helping my sister in his stead as he had been soothing baby Georgiana. Niklaus pertly replied that he did not do it for Darcy. The expression on Darce's face was priceless._

 _However I was not so pleased when I upon returning from London after a particularly satisfying dalliance, I caught him sprawled upon the grass with my twelve year old sister. I had half a mind to sock his face but then I heard him speak. He was teaching Allie the constellations. They gazed at the sky together, spell bound by its beauty, a boy of eighteen and a child of twelve united despite the disparity in their ages, in their appreciation of the marvel before them._

 _So, if solicitousness is all Alina has as evidence that Niklaus is in love with Michelle then I can give a pretty convincing argument about how he loves her too. As far as I know, he has never climbed a tree at five in the morning to rescue Michelle's feline or jumped into a muddy pond despite his irrational fear of water to save Michelle's life. If I didn't know better, I would say that Niklaus was romantically inclined towards my sister but since I do know better, I do not give it much importance. Besides, Niklaus is too enamoured with his (disgusting) cousin, the infamous (whore) Lady Susan to spare my Allie a second thought and I thank the lord for that for she deserves much better than a mercurial man with a crazy papa._

 _I fail to comprehend how writers and poets find the strength to write pages upon pages of words without their wrists falling off: my hands ache worse than they do after fighting with a sword._

 _VI_

 _I have a wild, un-christian desire to toss Christopher overboard. The infernal, nosy man continues to read my papers and is convinced that I lie about my family and friends for they seem more like characters out of a novel than real people. He is also pestering me about Michelle since he has discovered a thin, very thin I might add, bundle of letters from the lady in question amongst my belongings. I swear to god, the water in Latin Americas has affected his mind adversely for he seems to have lost his 'english manners and breeding.'_

 _I was furious after he read my last entry (an attempt at a sonnet to impress a prospective mistress) and even insulted his manhood in retaliation for his transformation into a gossiping old biddy and yet he continues to tease me for corresponding with a lady not related to me and saving her letters._

 _The foolish man, he doesn't understand that if I must preserve Robert's pitiful attempts at a correspondence to present to my demanding harridan of a sister as proof then it is a crime to discard the beautifully worded letters sent by Michelle. They are not many in number (unlike Allie and my mother) but her thoughtfulness in choosing to write a few kind words to a lonely man thousands of miles away from home touches my heart._

 _I think I shall go to visit her when my mother gives me permission to leave the estate. My mother resembles the dragon guarding the princess in those stories of yore. Christopher is laughing so hard that he is crying. Well, it would be grand to converse with her in person after so many days of reading her thoughts._

 _VII_

 _Christopher and I got drunk as wheelbarrows yesterday. I, a honourable, courageous soldier of his majesty's army am guilty of stealing rum from the cargo hold. It was incredibly foolish of me to ply a seasick man with unlimited alcohol and now I'm suffering the repercussions of my ill-thought decision as Christopher empties his guts in the chamber pot and my head pounds like a thousand elephants are stampeding across it._

 _It reminds me of the time Darcy and I stole some of the potent spirits from my father's study and proceeded to get ape drunk in one of the rarely visited portions of the garden. As luck would have it, we were discovered by my dear sister, a tiny girl of five and I panicked upon seeing her and swore. She imitated me and went round the garden giggling and squealing 'Bugger.'_

 _Darcy's eyes looked like they would pop out of his skull and he was of no use to me as I ran behind her. I finally managed to convince her to not say the word but I do not think my persuasive speech had any effect for she squealed bugger at tea when Aunt Anne arrived home with my mother._

 _Needless to say, Darcy and I were given a sound hiding by our fathers. The punishment was compounded by our excessive drinking as we were violently sick when we woke up in the cellar next morning. Niklaus found it wildly amusing when he visited to invite us to play with him and still teases us about it._

 _Humour aside, one of the few memories I have of last night is of Christopher asking me why I never mention the war in my entries. He says that my journal will be the most uninformative war account of all time as I do not refer to it at all and I shall have nothing to refer to when I want to tell my grandchildren the stories of my bravery and courage. He doesn't know that I do not need to record my experiences in order to remember them, for the chilling nightmares and spectres in my dreams at night are memories enough._


	16. Caught or Enter Dr Landry

Caught

December 1807

Milton Hall

Cambridgeshire

Alina had lived through more excitement in 16 years than most ladies did in their entire lives and most of it had occurred on forbidden excursions during the night. Which was why, she was most surprised when one of the most interesting and fortunate occurrence in her life, happened in broad daylight.

The circumstances were thus: Alina had been rather engrossed in Mary Wollstonecraft's book, underlining the lines she found rather relevant to her life, to quote to Michelle in her next letter. The weather was beautiful for a winter day, the sun was shining through the long windows of the library, warming her to the bones and her mother was away at one of the tenant's and she was blessedly free of her censure about her comportment, unladylike ways etc. It was turning out to be a smashing day, until Mr. Brian tumbled into the room, his face red from exertion.

'My lady', he panted, 'Sarah has been hurt. I thought you wish to know immediately.'

Alina was up in a flash 'How?'

'Something spooked the mail coach's horses and Sarah happened to be in their path', Mr Brian said, his face troubled. 'It's a miracle that she was saved.'

'Where is she?' Alina was half out of the door as she asked.

'Down in the servant quarters, Vandervall thought it best to bring her here as Dr Landry is in residence', Mr Brian said, as he followed her. 'He is with her.'

'My many thanks, Mr. Brian', Alina said, descending the back stairs to the servant quarters as if the devil himself were at her heels,'for telling me.'

Mr. Brian's reply was drowned out by the thundering sound of her feet pounding down two flights of stairs. She reached the bottom and rushed to Sarah's room.

What she found did not provide relief in the least. Sarah was sprawled on the bed, her body covered in blood. Dr Landry was barking furiously at Mrs Thomas, his forehead gleaming with beads of perspiration and the old lady's hands were shaking, from exhaustion or fright she could not tell.

'Dr Landry', she said quietly, 'Perhaps, I should relieve Mrs. Thomas.'

'Yes', the old doctor said, Mrs. Thomas' shaking hands had not escaped his notice, 'half the maids have fainted or puked at the sight of her, you seem to be the only one in this house with a strong stomach and backbone.'

Alina smiled grimly, as she took the washcloth from Mrs Thomas' hands. 'Tell me what to do.'

They worked for an hour, cleaning and disinfecting Sarah's wounds: cuts, scratches and bruises and she held her friend's hand as the doctor poured alcohol into the deep wounds before stitching them. Sarah screamed when the alcohol touched her skin and Alina couldn't help the shudder that rocked her body.

Sarah fell asleep, exhausted from the pain. Dr Landry sighed deeply before chugging whisky straight from the small bottle in his coat. His grey hair were plastered to his forehead and he looked completely spent.

'Not as young as I once was', he chuckled weakly, as he looked at his bloody hands. 'Your arrival was most fortuitous.'

'She is going to be fine?' Alina asked, as she wiped her own hands on a rag. 'She will live?'

'I cannot tell, child', the old man replied wearily. 'It all depends on if the fever sets in. We can only pray to God that it does not.'

'A fever from wounds can kill?'

'It's killed more people than I would care to count', Dr Landry's eyes were distant, as if they were seeing something else, another time and place. 'It killed my own daughter and my dearest friend.'

'I..I am sorry for your loss, Sir', Alina said softly.

'It must have been God's will, though what he wanted with an innocent child of ten, I cannot tell', his voice was thick with grief and despair.

'Is..is that why you don't go to Church?' Alina questioned, surprised by her own daring. 'Are you angry with God?'

'Not angry, no, I am merely waiting for answers', he answered cryptically, as he got up from his chair, his joints creaking. 'You should be off to bed, dear, before your father discovers you in such a state and has my hide for enlisting your help.'

'She is my friend', Alina said defiantly. 'I would do anything to help her.'

'You remind me of Dora', the old man smiled in remembrance. 'She would have liked you. Now go, and send Mrs Thomas in. We must move your friend to a cleaner bed.'

Alina nodded in agreement.

'Thank you, Dr Landry', she said with feeling, embracing the old man tightly. 'Thank you for saving my friend.'

The old doctor was surprised but he returned her embrace nevertheless, her touch bringing back memories long forgotten. She released him, aimed a dazzling smile at him and then shot out of the room.

He laughed in surprise. 'She is you, Dora', he said, looking at the skies, from the little window in Sarah's room. 'You always told me you'd come back to haunt me, didn't you?'

* * *

Alina was tired, her limbs ached and she smelled terrible: a mixture of spirits, salve and sweat. She was dying for a bath but she had to collect her books and letters from the library.

The sun was high in the sky but the winds had turned cold. It was about two hours to dusk. The house was silent, Robert was away at Maverley, he had a peculiar fondness for Jason's father, and they liked getting bosky together; Father was probably drowning in estate matters, Dr Landry in blue ruin and mother was blessedly absent.

She smiled to herself at the memory of the old doctor's face when she had embraced him. He had perhaps received the shock of his life. Her smile was wiped from her face, when she opened the door to the library door and found Miss Price going through her letters.

'What the hell are you going, you vile woman?' she yelled, all propriety forgotten in the wake of exhaustion. 'Who gave you leave to touch my private papers?'

'Really', the older woman scoffed, laying Alina's letters coolly as if hadn't just been caught snooping. 'Is this how you talk to your elders, Lady Alina? Tis no wonder your parents avoid taking you to London.'

'You forget yourself', Alina said softly, her voice edged with steel. 'Elder or not, you do not have the permission to go through my correspondence.'

'Oh, someone needs to watch you, you wild girl', Miss Price said, her eyes gleaming fanatically. 'So dismissive of propriety and good breeding. You would have been ruined, had I not intercepted half your letters. Such a shameless girl, you are, Lady Alina, writing salacious letters to bachelors.'

'Have you lost your mind?' Alina asked dumbfounded. 'What are you talking about?'

'Playing the innocent, are we?' Miss Price asked, standing close to her and tipping up her chin with a thin and cold finger. 'Have you not been writing to Fitzwilliam Darcy and Jason Corey?'

'One of them is my cousin and the other has been my friend since we were both in leading strings', Alina said sharply, as she knocked Miss Price's finger off her chin. 'Don't touch me.'

Miss Price laughed. 'I shall, my dear hellion. And I shall strike you so hard, that you will never dare to put a toe out of line.'

'My father will kill you', Alina threatened as she slowly moved backwards towards the door. Miss Price seemed to have taken leave of her senses and Alina wasn't sure if she wasn't going to make good on her threats of violence.

'Useless man, Damien Fitzwilliam', Miss Price mocked. 'Cannot control his wife, nor his daughter. You're lucky my mistress cares for you or you'd have run off with a stable hand by now.'

'Your mistress?' Alina asked, her retreat forgotten in face of this new information. Who was ordering Miss Price to spy on her, a mere girl of fifteen?

'Lady Catherine', said Miss Price worshipfully. 'She was the only one who saw you for who you are, a barque of frailty!'

'You have been spying on me for Lady Catherine?' Alina was flabbergasted.

'Spying?' shrieked Miss Price. 'I have been protecting you, you convenient! Saving you from ruination and besmirching my mistress' name.'

If there had been any doubt in her mind regarding Miss Price's mental stability, it was wiped clean after that sentence. She was a clear fanatic, her beliefs fuelled and made more dangerous by her foolish Aunt's support. Alina doubted that Aunt Catherine had known that she was entering a partnership with a madwoman.

A madwoman, who this instant, seemed to be intent upon striking her and Alina was sure that she was not strong enough to fend off Miss Price, who was quite dicked in the nob and might just kill her if she tried to defend herself.

'You are quite right', she found herself admitting. 'I am no better than the various bits of muslin that line London's streets.'

And then she began to sob.

Miss Price looked as though she had the wind knocked out of her sails.

'I have no regard for the rules of society', she continued, hiding her face in her hands. 'I am a stain on my family's name. I cannot thank you enough for protecting me, Miss Price. I am in your debt.'

She felt a hand on her head and it was with great difficulty that she stopped herself from shuddering. 'You have seen the light', Miss Price said breathily, wonder in her voice. 'You have seen your ugly soul.'

'I have, Miss Price', she sobbed. 'And you must help me to atone for my sins.'

'How...how can I help you?' Miss Price asked, her hand stroking her hair rhythmically.

'Take me and my father to Aunt Catherine, we must beg her forgiveness', she said repentantly.

'And so you should, you mannerless chit', the hand in her hair tightened and she winced in pain as Miss Price yanked a few hairs out of her head. 'She has your best interests at heart and you dared to insult her!'

'Will you come with me, Miss Price?' said Alina, raising her tear stained eyes to meet her governess' mad gaze. 'Will you help my father see the light as you have helped me?'

'I have been waiting for this day, girlie', Miss Price said hoarsely, her face shining with victory. 'Take me to him before your paphian of a mother returns.'

'I shall, Miss Price', Alina simpered.

And then she grasped Miss Price's hand and led her to her father's study, praying that Dr Landry was with him. Miss Price had a maniacal grin on her pretty face, she seemed to be lost to the world as they walked through Milton Hall.

After many harrowing minutes, they stood before her father's door and Alina rapped sharply on the door.

'Enter', her father's voice called and she felt as though she would faint from relief.

She opened the door, sending a prayer of thanks when she noticed Dr Landry slumped in a chair by the fireplace.

'Father', she said weakly, relinquishing her grip on Miss Price's hand. 'You must come with to Aunt Catherine.'

'Aunt Catherine?' her father sounded befogged. 'Why in the world would you want to visit Catherine?'

Miss Price seemed to return to her surrounding at his confused words. 'Why shouldn't she?' she snarled. 'Lady Catherine is the only acceptable female influence in her life. She is the only one who saw the weakness for sin and vice in your daughter's heart and assigned me to protect her. If not for her, this hellion might have been selling her wares on London's filthy streets!'

'Miss Price!' her father thundered. 'How dare you?'

'How dare I?' the woman snapped as she held Alina's neck from behind. 'How dare you, Lord Milton, how dare you insult a woman who has saved your family name from this chit who traverses round the countryside with boys and writes letters to bachelors?'

'What has happened to you woman?' Lord Milton asked. 'Unhand my daughter this instant!'

'Father', Alina interrupted, calmly. 'We should leave for Rosings as soon as possible. We must beg for Aunt Catherine's forgiveness. We have injured her gravely.'

'See?' Miss Price shrieked. 'If Lady Godiva can see it, why cannot you? You should be kissing your sister's feet-'

She was abruptly silenced by a brass candelabra to her head. Dr Landry had snuck up behind her unnoticed as she bandied words with Lord Milton and lobbed her on the head. She collapsed on the ground.

'Thank God', Alina said, before she, for the first time in her life, fainted dead away.

* * *

The sun had set when she woke, and the room was illuminated by the light of the fire that blazed merrily in the fireplace.

'She is clearly a maniac', a quiet voice said from her left and she turned her head to see the tired form of Dr Landry. Her father stood sentinel-like behind him.

'You should be in bed, Doctor', she said weakly. 'You will fall ill if you do not rest.'

Dr Landry chuckled sadly. 'Quite like Dora, isn't she Damien?'

'Oliver', her father said, the warning clear in his tone.

'Who is Dora?' she questioned, the world seemed fuzzy and Dora was the only word her mind registered.

'A girl I knew once', Dr Landry said reminiscing. 'A spitfire. Quite like you, I suppose.'

'Did you love her?' Alina asked, smiling. Love, love, love. What a pretty thing!

'Everyone who knew her loved her, my dear'. Dr Landry said, his eyes glassy. 'She was a miracle.'

'Why didn't you marry her?'

'Goodness no', Dr Landry exclaimed. 'She was like my daughter.'

'How are you, Allie?' her father interrupted, his forehead creasing in concern.

'Quite fine, father', she giggled. 'I feel as though I am flying, soaring high above the clouds, like a bird.'

'Oh Allie', her father sighed, as he moved to sit next to her on the bed, his warm hand holding her cold one.

'It's the shock and the medicine', Dr Landry explained. 'She'll be right by morning.'

'I'm right as rain, Doctor', Alina declared, as she moved to sit up and then fell back onto her pillow, dizzy. 'But why is the world spinning?'

And then she was violently sick.

Damien Fitzwilliam held his daughter as she emptied her guts over the chamber pot.

'Fuck, Landry', he swore. 'What kind of doctor are you? What have you given her?'

'Just some brandy to help with the shock', Dr Landry said defensively.

'Spirits make her sick, Oliver', said the Earl tiredly. 'She used to get the most awful colds when she was young, it was then we discovered her aversion to alcohol.'

'I did not know Damien', the doctor said contritely.

'Go to bed, Ollie', he replied as he helped his sick daughter to her bed. 'I'm going to need you when we send that madwoman to Bedlam.'

'Bedlam' Alina repeated drowsily. 'Don't send her there, father, they will put her in a cage and spit on her. Don't send her.'

'I won't, darling', the Earl agreed, lying through his teeth, 'I won't.'

Alina smiled slightly, before she fell into a deep slumber.

'Tell the maids to send Alexandra here, when she returns, won't you Landry?' the Earl said as he wiped his daughter's clammy forehead with a washcloth. 'I don't want to leave her.'

'Of course', Oliver replied and then he made his way out of the room, the quiet strains of a lullaby heralding his exit. It reminded him of Dora and Rosy and he wiped his silent tears as he closed the door.

* * *

A/N: Hiii guys :D

I have been suffering from a most awful case of writer's block since August and I had written seven or eight different versions of chapter 16 that I had uploaded before and then this one happened today. I hoped you liked it :) Please, please leave a review, I am dying to hear from you!

Happy 2017!

Love,

Mango


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